


The Narrow Road to Enlightenment

by trascendenza



Category: Chinese Mythology, Shadowhunters (TV), Xī yóu jì | Journey to the West - Wú Cheng'en
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anxiety Attacks, BAMF Magnus Bane, Banter, Bisexual Character of Color, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brothers, Buddhism, Canon Queer Character of Color, Cantonese Language, Chinese Character, Chinese Food, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Deities, Demons, Elemental Magic, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Familiars, Family, Friendship, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderqueer Character, Insecure Alec Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood Ships Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, M/M, Magnus Bane & Isabelle Lightwood Friendship, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Magnus Bane Is A Freewheeling Bisexual, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood-centric, Monks, Monsters, Multiple Crossovers, Other, POV Alec Lightwood, POV Character of Color, POV Genderqueer Character, POV Magnus Bane, POV Queer Character, Pilgrimage, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Alec Lightwood, Protective Magnus Bane, Quests, Racebent characters, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Siblings, Slow Burn, Spiritual, Taoism, The Slowest Burn Ever TBH, Top Magnus Bane, Worldbuilding, Wuxia, Yaoguai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-05-16 16:55:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 66,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19322296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: AU. A genderqueer retelling of Journey to the West/The Monkey King.Alec is a devout buddhist novice on a pilgrimage with Jace and Isabelle to find the lost sacred scrolls. Magnus is the powerful Golden Leopard, freed from their prison under the mountain and forced by the deity Gunyam to protect the pilgrimage.* * *Their senses were alight and they luxuriated in their fur, their power, themself. Magnus didn’t become a different being per se, but their consciousness also transformed: different instincts came forward, and a distinctly feline set of priorities clarified, the confusion and contradiction of the bipedal mind honing into a simple process of instinct-action-now.But almost immediately, Magnus had to fight themself, disrupt the process to keep themself on their bed. Magnus saw Alec through their leopard eyes, and the instinct to curl up beside him, to keep him protected and safe felt like the most natural thing in the world. To nuzzle their nose into the perfect space where his neck met his shoulders and inhale his scent, to lick a luxurious grooming stripe along the well-defined tendon and up behind his ear.





	1. Petition

**Author's Note:**

> 1) This is a universe where the cultural norm is not assuming gender until someone specifies. They/them is the gender-neutral pronoun.
> 
> 2) Everyone is racebent as Chinese in this universe, which doesn't make much of a difference for you except that I change some of their hair/eye colors. The Chinese in this defaults to Cantonese.
> 
> Deiyuk = hell  
> Sinhap or mouhap = wuxia  
> Gunyam = Guanyin  
> Pou Saat = bodhisattva  
> Yiu moh gwai gwaai = assorted (usually "evil") supernatural beings or creatures
> 
> 3) I'm in "produce as many words as possible" mode until I reach the end, so apologies for any typos or other minor issues that I miss in my frenzy.

**Part 1: The Nations**

Magnus -- also known as Sun Wukong, the Sage Golden Leopard, the scourge of the skies and a regent of the earth -- was remembering the particular and delicious sensation of pure anger.

Everything was coming back slowly, as if through a thick, viscous fog. Their mind was groping in the unfamiliar light of day, trying to reclaim words, concepts, sensations that had been lost with the suffocating onslaught of the years.

They didn’t know how long they’d been underneath the mountain, suspended in unbreakable darkness, down so deep that there was no life. Just the infinite silence of stone, the distant shift of tectonic plates, the barely audible movement of water.

They looked at the figures in front of them. _Walking_ , they identified, simultaneously glad to find another word, and frustrated that they’d lost so much. _Most likely a mortal and his joined._

Their hands tightened around the -- bars, yes. These were bars. On a _cage_.

“Cage,” they growled, though it came out less as a word and more like a creaky, dusty scrape. They weren’t entirely sure why this enraged them so much, but they held onto it, because it made them feel alive again. Blood was beginning to pump, fingers gripping the cool metal, muscles in their thighs bunching in preparation.

One of the mortals stopped walking, looking back at them.

“It is trying to talk?” They said to their companion, leaning forward to look more closely at them.

“How am I supposed to know?” The other replied, shrugging. “We can’t even figure out what it is.”

“My element’s on a rock-goh,” The first one said. They were shorter, facial expression more open and curious. “Too big for a gwaai.”

“That’s Camille’s area,” The second one said. They had a strong build, a grave expression, and a posture that spoke of strength.

“Cage,” they growled again, satisfied that they managed an audible syllable. _Luung._ But this wasn’t just any luung, they realized. This was a sau luung, an animal cage.

“Eyeshit,” the shorter one said, stepping backwards. “It is trying to talk!”

The stronger one shrugged, seemingly unaffected. “So it’s cultivated a bit. Doesn’t mean it won’t try to suck us dry if it gets the chance.”

“I know, I know.” The shorter one said. “It’s just kinda weird, that’s all. Usually the ones that can talk don’t look so…” They waved their hands around. “Rough.”

Magnus, sick of these two staring at them and doing nothing, grabbed harder at the bars. More of their identity was returning by the second, and they knew that this thin, elementally-weak metal was no match for them. They tensed their arms, inhaling deeply through their nostrils, preparing to snap them like a pair of twigs --

Their muscles screamed with the effort, a sharp, sudden pain suffusing seemingly every cell of their body. They fell to the floor, trembling with it, muscles contracting wildly and uncontrollably.

“What the deiyuk is it --”

“Enough.” The voice swam through their awareness hazily. “We’re not toidoi anthropologists, Simon. Get moving.”

It was all they could do to keep sucking in air, vision blurring and heart racing. The anger, Magnus had welcomed. This, though, this powerlessness -- this was enough to make them long for the engulfing darkness. At least there they hadn’t been foolish enough to think they could change anything.

* * *

“I feel like I’ve walked right out of a sinhap novel,” Jace said cheerfully, lifting his pack higher on his back.

“They write those about immortal heroes,” Alec replied, his feet already more sore than he believed possible considering they’d only started walking thirty minutes ago. “Not a couple of novices who are leaving the monastery for basically the first time ever.”

“ _And_ an awesome spirit being, excuse you,” Isabelle said, leaning herself forward to look at Alec while using a finger to point to her face.

“And, you know, gei gam haan, but we’re on a mission for a pou saat. To find lost scrolls in a place no one’s returned from in hundreds of years.” Jace said, opening his eyes extra wide, as if while he’d been speaking he suddenly remembered how impressed he was by himself. “We’re prime hero material.”

“Speak for yourself,” Alec said, noticing something on the path ahead. “I’m just going to try and keep the three of us alive. Well,” he amended, nodding with a quirked mouth as he caught Isabelle’s eye. “Mostly you, Jace. You are way too eager to try out that striking crane.”

“You just wait, Alec, you’ll see --”

Alec held up a hand, stopping in his tracks. Something about the people coming down the road was making him uneasy. Jace and Isabelle both stopped in their steps, turning to look at him questioningly.

“That cage seems really big,” Alec said quietly.

Jace and Isabelle swiveled their heads in sync; they were joined, so they did that sort of thing all the time. The other people were pretty far down the road, but even from this distance they could begin making out what looked like a person crumpled at the bottom of the black metal enclosure. The cage was floating behind the two people, some kind of air element-infused design where they could tug it along the path with two ropes.

“Let’s take them,” Jace said immediately, going so far as to bend his knees as if he were going to pounce the moment they were in distance.

“Hang on,” Alec said, reaching out to lay his forearm against Jace’s chest. “Extreme measures like that would be the absolute last resort.”

“He’s right,” Isabelle agreed. “We’re in the Hundred Villages. We aren’t familiar with the customs here. We need to understand the situation before we become attacking foreigners.”

“Otherwise this could get ugly for us once we’re back in the city,” Alec added. “Let’s just approach them normally and see what’s going on.”

Jace huffed air out of his nose but nodded, straightening up. There was obviously no chance he was going to relax at this point, but at least he wasn’t going to go in with a flying kick. Not to mention his war cry which was a little warbly at the end, although incredibly heartfelt.

The minutes slowed to a honey’s trickle as they closed the distance, Alec feeling more uncomfortable the more details he could make out. He’d been sheltered at the monastery, he knew, but he was deeply disturbed that they were finding a sentient being held captive on the very first day. He didn’t regret pledging his service to the pou saat, but he wondered what kind of world he’d agreed to traverse. He wasn’t sure if he was adequately prepared.

When they were within speaking distance, they shared a glance, and through some unspoken agreement they all bowed to the approaching strangers. They looked down at the road deferentially.

“Blessings on your morning, kind people,” Alec said, using extra formal language. “These poor novices want to thank you for the service you’re performing.”

“That’s right,” Jace agreed. Alec was impressed at how casually he’d modulated his tone. “But what exactly is the service you’re doing here, kind people?”

“We’re yiu moh gwai gwaai trappers,” said the muscular person, sounding bored. “Could you novices clear the way? We’re in a hurry.”

That was when the crumpled person shifted, their naked form completely covered in dirt. They groaned in deep pain, saying in a hoarse voice, “ _get me out_.”

Alec felt a pressure behind his eyes, a tightening in his teeth, and he dropped all pretense. The agony in that voice made his stomach roil, bitter with acid. Jace’s idea had been right -- someone needed to step up, and they were here.

“There’s a sentient being suffering in there,” Alec said, raising a shaking arm and pointing it at the semi-conscious prisoner. “We are practitioners of the eight-fold path. We demand that you stop causing this person harm.”

The muscular person raised a bored eyebrow. “And if we don’t?”

“Hey, now,” said the other person, stepping forward and holding two conciliatory palms forward. “There’s no need for this to get violent. Right, Raphael?”

Isabelle stepped forward. “Then release your captive,” she said conversationally, blinking her eyes distractingly at the one trying to peacekeep. “These two novices have a pou saat on their side. It would be best not to provoke them.”

“I mean…” The peacekeeper hesitated. “The thing’s talking, so maybe we should just let them take it?” The peacekeeper looked at their partner.

“The _thing_?” Jace said, practically vibrating.

Alec had never, ever seen Jace look the way he did right now. It unnerved him how naturally it seemed to come to Jace, such an open display of emotion. They were novices on the path; they were supposed to maintain equanimity, not start confrontations with random strangers.

“You just had to go and say it,” Isabelle said, and the air got thicker as her eyes changed color. A bright yellow light began to glow under her skin as her form shifted. She fluidly dropped down on all fours and shook out her gray coat, her wolf’s eyes fixed on the peacekeeper in front of her.

“Oh, come on, there’s no need to break out spirit forms --”

“Yes, Simon,” Raphael said, tone cold. “There is. Camille will kill us if we let a few baby-faced novices mug us on a mountain road.”

“Well,” the one named Simon shrugged. “When you put it like that.” And then Simon transformed, shifting into a large serpent.

Isabelle and Simon engaged immediately, their spirit forms blurring around the edges as they wrestled, Isabelle growling and Simon hissing. Jace went for Raphael, and Alec walked over to the cage to try to figure out how to open it.

He’d barely located the door when Raphael was on him; he saw Jace crumpled on the ground out of the corner of his eye. Before Alec could do more than get his bearings, Raphael had punched him soundly in the face and his whole world began to spin. He tried to remember how to block, how to retaliate, but he’d never been as good at his martial arts lessons as Jace was.

He heard Isabelle whine, there was a loud hiss, and then she went quiet.

Raphael was relentless, driving Alec back into the bars of the cage. Alec fervently tried to use his forearms to block his face from the oncoming assault, but that just meant that Raphael landed blows on his stomach, kicks to his legs.

“Since you’re so interested in our captive,” Raphael sneered, and before Alec knew what was happening he was being shoved inside the cage, hitting his head on the bars when he stumbled backwards and fell.

“Toidoi novices,” Raphael spat out, slamming the door shut. “I don’t get paid enough for this earshit.”

Alec’s body was trembling, his teeth chattering so powerfully that he could barely breathe around them. He truly understood, now, why right conduct was so important. He’d always understood the virtue of nonviolence in an intellectual way, as something he’d practiced dutifully almost every day of his life but never fully grasped. This visceral experience of what violence actually felt like, its sudden brutality and complete indifference, left Alec feeling physically ill.

He saw that Simon was standing over Isabelle. She was unconscious, still in her wolf form, while Simon had returned to their human form. Raphael was making their way over to Jace, a dark expression on their face.

“Get me out --” the person beside Alec groaned, their eyes fluttering open. With great effort, they laid a hand on the floor, seemingly trying to pull themself forward. “-- of this _cage._ ”

For a moment, the person looked at Alec, their golden eyes so full of rage and fear. Alec felt the impact like a hand reaching into his chest and squeezing, and then the person dropped suddenly, their energy seemingly spent.

“No,” Alec whispered, desperately, scrambling over to the person. He squeezed his eyes shut, completely overwhelmed.

He did then what he knew best: took in a meditative breath, and began to pray.

 _Great Compassionate Gunyam Pou Saat_ , he prayed more fervently than he ever had before, dropping on his knees and placing his forehead to the ground in utter supplication. _Please help us protect this sentient being. Please give them your mercy._

He didn’t know how many times he repeated it, but he didn’t stop, pouring more of himself into each repetition, _please, please, please._

And then, he felt the telltale tingling of the pou saat’s energy starting at the base of his feet and surging through his body. Alec breathed in --

And he was in a completely white, infinite space.

He was seeing, but had no awareness whatsoever of his body. He wasn’t sure where he ended and this space, this beingness, began.

The pou saat appeared in front of him, achingly and indescribably beautiful.

“Blessings, my brave novice,” they said, in a voice that felt as peaceful as water gently caressing rocks in a riverbed. They wore a simple white robe and the beginning of a smile, legs crossed inside of a translucent and fragrant lotus.

“You heard my petition,” Alec replied, not sure how he was speaking.

“I have only one question for you, my brave novice,” the pou saat replied, intonation slow and melodic. “And you must answer with complete honesty.”

“Of course,” Alec said, unable to fathom the idea of lying to the pou saat. Their face held the deepest understanding that Alec had ever experienced, eyes so compassionate that Alec could hardly stand their kindness.

“If I told you that fulfilling this petition would mean the end of your service to me, would you still ask for it?”

Alec considered this carefully. His absolute duty was to the pou saat. He’d been praying to them since childhood, learning their wisdom, following the pou saat and the Sage’s wisdom in all his development. But he knew what his pou saat would want, and he knew the answer in his heart.

“Yes,” Alec said, simply.

“Interestingly,” the pou saat said, raising their hands elegantly to gather energy, “it will be just the beginning.”

Alec blinked, and everything went black.

* * *

He woke up with a start, glancing around him frantically. He saw that Jace and Isabelle both looked like they were breathing normally, and turned to see about the prisoner.

The door to the cage was wide open, and the prisoner inside had been clothed and cleaned. They were no mortal -- the clawed hands and golden eyes spoke to that -- but they were also no yiu moh gwai gwaai, as these people claimed to be hunting. They were passed on in the corner of the cage, an exhaustion in their expression that made Alec’s heart ache.

Simon and Raphael were unconscious, as well. Alec exited the cage, carefully stepping around them to get Isabelle and his brother. It took a few minutes to wake them up, but neither of the so-called trappers stirred.

“Do we carry them or try to wake them up?” Jace whispered as they crouched outside of the cage, trying to decide to do with the captive the pou saat had just freed.

“Carry,” Alec said decisively. This person could use all the rest they could get, he sensed. “I’ve got them.”

“Are you sure --” Jace didn’t even finish the question before Alec had scooped the person up into his arms, carefully maneuvering the two of them out of the cage.

“I think we should keep heading towards the capital,” Isabelle said, starting to lead them in the same direction they were headed before the altercation. “The next village isn’t far, and we need to find a place to rest for the night.”

“I’ll watch the back,” Jace volunteered, falling into step behind Alec. Alec approved of keeping protection on both sides, the sleeping person in the middle.

Looking down at their sleeping face, Alec silently gave thanks to the pou saat for answering his petition. They looked so vulnerable, curled up against Alec’s chest, exhaustion etched in their every line.

Alec walked forward with a steady rhythm, listening carefully for each quiet inhale and exhale as he went, giving gratitude for each one that followed.


	2. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec gets Magnus to safety; Magnus reacts on instinct.

Alec’s impatience only grew the longer the person stayed unconscious. They’d walked at least forty minutes, and the person barely stirred, except for the occasional pained sounds from the back of their throat which had Alec holding them tighter. Both Isabelle and Jace had offered to take over for him, no doubt seeing the tremors that were beginning to shake his shoulders, but some stubborn instinct kept him holding on.

He tried to exercise his concentration with each step, to regain his equanimity with each breath, but they just seemed to slip farther away with each passing moment. Alec wasn’t used to _any_ of this -- the sounds, the colors, the physical strain, all the strange sights and smells. His body and mind simply wouldn’t settle, awareness wound too tight.

“We’re almost there,” Isabelle reassured him as they made their way through the village. Seikung Village was in reality a large, bustling city. The Yue peoples called all their settlements “villages,” but they from what Alec understood they were a varied mixture of metropolises, smaller cities, rural towns, migratory plains settlements, and mountain enclaves.

The circular canals that served for transportation in this village spread out like flower petals along the banks of a huge river that crossed through the middle of the city.

“Do you think they’ll take the stranger in?” Jace asked, running his hands along the rim of the water glider they were sitting in. He examined the craft curiously, looking over the side to watch how it sliced the water soundlessly.

Isabelle was at the front steering, which a kind villager had shown them how to do when the villager found them standing uselessly at the bank of the canal with no idea of how to call or use a glider.

“They will,” Alec said confidently, because he wasn’t going to accept any other option.

“Hai hai,” Jace replied, quirking his mouth at Alec’s tone. Then he smiled. “They’re more likely to kick you out, anyway, if you start arguing with them about scripture.”

“‘I don’t see how you can call five thousand characters of pure riddles a scripture,’” Isabelle intoned in an obvious and not at _all_ accurate imitation of Alec.

“Poetic riddles,” Alec corrected her, raising his chin. “I never said they weren’t poetic.”

“And that’s exactly why the visiting daoists always like you the best,” Jace said sardonically.

Alec exhaled through his nostrils, eyes going skyward. The daoists always said they wanted to engage in friendly intellectual examinations to compare their different traditions, but then went and complained to the abbot when Alec tried to do exactly that.

“Up ahead,” Isabelle said, signaling. They saw the temple they’d been seeking, a large, impressive structure along the side of the canal.

“Finally,” Alec whispered under his breath, impatient to have a healer examine the person.

The temple was round, the deep celestial blue walls rising directly out the earth below, the doorway framed in thick vines with blossoming blue flowers. The Yue peoples were known for their skilled earth elementals, and Alec couldn’t help but admire the intricate handiwork of the sinuous rooftop, a six-layered golden spiral arcing towards the sun.

Alec looked down at the person, internally relaxing a bit now that they’d reached their destination.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered to them, a promise he intended to keep.

* * *

Magnus’s awakening was a sharp, awful twist into consciousness.

There were more pieces than the last time -- words, familiar sensations, the remembered outlines of their own body -- but they were still jumbled, jagged edges scraping together in a discordant, disjointed communication.

“No!” Magnus screamed, eyes open wide but unseeing. Their heart was racing, straining as if to burst, and all they knew was that they had to get out, had to _escape_ \--

“Kind person,” a voice said, but Magnus couldn’t process the words.

There was a hand encircling their wrist, and suddenly their entire focus narrowed into that point.

An attack. A trap. A restraint.

 _Fight,_ everything in them said, nerves flaring, blood roaring.

“Let me _go_ ,” they roared, surging up.

And as they allowed the age-old instincts to rise to the surface --

_disarm, grab the wrist, tiger’s mouth of the hand underneath their chin_

\-- the discordant pieces began to line up. With each fluid movement, the misfiring signals began to untangle, and Magnus became more themself.

_Twist, get them on the ground, restrain the hands._

Magnus could feel it, the way their spirit was knitting back together, strand by aching strand. It was an odd kind of pleasure, to be so completely broken that even the pain of healing felt comparatively blissful.

They blinked, vision finally coming into focus.

That was how they found themself sitting astride a person who they had pinned on their back. Magnus had trapped their arms beneath their knees, and had a hand at their throat, just shy of choking them.

“Who are you?” They demanded, leaning down. “What have you done to me?”

“Kind person,” they gasped, hips squirming. “You’re safe -- you’re safe now. I promise.”

Magnus narrowed their eyes, the blood still roaring in their ears. “But why am I _here_?” They demanded, getting closer to their face, frustrated with the non-answer. “Why dig me up, after all this time?”

“Pl-please,” the person said, licking their lips. “I mean you no harm. I promise.”

Magnus squeezed their eyes shut, growling in the back of their throat.

“ _Answer me_ ,” they hissed, digging their claws into the soft points just underneath the top of the person’s jaw.

They groaned, arching their neck up.

“I don’t know,” they gasped, and now their voice was trembling. “I don’t -- I don’t know, I, I’m sorry.”

Magnus could hear the truth in the answer, and felt themself wilt, loosening their grip.

The person smacked their lips, working their jaw with the slack Magnus had just granted. “I -- I don’t know why you were in that cage, kind person. We didn’t find out where they were taking you.”

Magnus’s eyes widened and they sat back, dropping their hand from the person’s throat.

“The cage…” Magnus whispered, the memories coming back. That the last thing they remembered seeing was --

The understanding eyes of the person beneath them. The same person who had been in the cage with them, who’d come close, whispering soft prayers.

“It was you,” Magnus said wonderingly, putting their hand on their own chest. “You were there with me.”

“Yes,” they said, nodding eagerly. “We found you on the road. We demanded that they release you.”

Magnus blinked helplessly, swimming in confusion. They looked at the room they were in for the first time, seeing that it was tiny, sparse bedroom. A single bed mat on the floor, a tiny desk, prayer beads hanging on the wall.

And the person underneath them was wearing robes. The robes of a practitioner.

“What…?” Magnus put a hand on their forehead, massaging. They were reeling.

“Let’s start over,” the practitioner said, gently.

Magnus looked at them, focusing on those understanding eyes, and felt steadier.

“I’m Alec,” Alec said, with a small smile. “I go by he.”

It took Magnus a moment to remember what was expected of them. Alec simply waited.

“Magnus,” they said finally. “I go by they.”

“Magnus,” Alec repeated, smile growing and reaching his eyes. “Would you like to eat? I have some food in my bags.”

“I don’t…” Magnus exhaled heavily. Now that the fighting instinct had drained out of them, their spine sagged.

“Here,” Alec said, squirming again. “Let me just --” He cleared his throat a little too forcefully, extracting his arms from underneath Magnus’s knees, and then squirming the rest of himself out from under Magnus.

“There,” he went on, cheeks tingeing pink, “that’s better.”

He took Magnus by the elbow, guiding them to standing, and then over to the bed mat so that Magnus could sit up against the wall.

“You just -- yes. Stay there.”

Magnus watched the monk walk nervously around the room, chattering cheerfully as he did so, his words becoming a pleasant background murmur.

 _Who are you?_ Magnus thought wonderingly, closing their eyes and slipping away.


	3. Ravenous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus is back on their feet. They go to an eatery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to change Magnus's pronoun to they/them. (I will edit the previous two chapters right after posting this.)
> 
> san sin = an immortal person (generally attained by daoist spiritual cultivation)  
> daufu = tofu

Magnus looked like they were slipping into deeper sleep.

Alec could tell, because he’d catalogued a whole range of their expressions: pinched brows, slightly parted lips, fluttering eyelids when dreams came.

Watching over Magnus all morning, Alec had found himself slipping into object meditation, focusing on one visual feature after the next. A breath in: the upward slope of the bridge of their nose; a high, straight line, similar to northerner features. A breath out: the downsweep of the eyebrows, thick towards the center, and a light scattering of fine hairs towards the outside. A breath in, the light scattering of eyelashes against the lower lids, a breath out, the upswept curve of their upper lip.

Focusing on external objects wasn’t Alec’s strongest practice, but it had been strangely effortless as he waited for his charge to wake.

Unfortunately, although the meditation was focusing his mind, it wasn’t helping with the agitation under Alec’s skin. It had been building since the fight on the road, and only got worse after Magnus had attacked him. Alec understood that it hadn’t been intentional, of course -- Magnus had clearly been confused and disoriented. But it had been incredibly… jarring.

Alec hadn’t been -- he wasn’t --

He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. He needed to get himself together.

Alec adjusted himself on the cushion, pulling himself into a more formal posture. He positioned his hands into the tranquility seal, one hand cupped in the other, palms up, the tips of his thumbs touching. He let his eyes fall closed, slowing his breaths but not counting them. Since his body was the problem, he decided, the arising and passing technique would be a good way to practice the insight into the impermanent nature of the sensations.

 _All things pass,_ Alec held the thought lightly, and then released it.

As he breathed, he let his awareness extend throughout his body.

Throbbing pain in the soles of the feet. Tired muscles in the calves. Aching thighs. An insect bite on his left knee. Alec breathed with the physical discomfort, feeling himself seek into deeper acceptance with each exhale.

He moved up his body, discovering light hunger pangs. His robe damp at the small of his back, cool with sweat. Elbows throbbing lightly from when Magnus had pinned him. Alec’s bicep twitched.

 _All sensations pass,_ he reminded himself.

Tenderness underneath his jaw, where Magnus’s hand had choked him. Two shallow scratches, where Magnus’s claws had dug in just below his earlobes. Magnus’s voice in his ear, gravelly and frustrated --

Alec squeezed his eyes shut harder, quickly moving his focus to the crown of his head.

It felt like it took much longer than his normal practice, but after he’d completed three body scans he was more centered. The strange, tight feeling under his skin had relaxed, and he felt more solidly present.

Satisfied, he opened his eyes --

And found Magnus staring at him, their golden eyes glinting in the falling dusk.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Magnus explained, casually. They were lounging on the bed mat, turned on their side, head propped up one hand. “You looked…” Magnus’s lips curled just a bit. “Exceptionally peaceful.”

Alec swallowed, trying to find his voice. Who stared at someone that way when they were meditating? That was just -- not a thing you were supposed to do.

“Just practicing,” Alec said, shrugging. “How are you feeling?” He rolled his shoulders and shifted into a more relaxed posture.

“Better,” Magnus said, slowly. Like there was much more the story, but they didn’t want to get into it right now. “And a little surprised to see that you’re still here.” Magnus tilted their head to the side, considering Alec. “You were kind enough to rescue me, clean me up, and find me a place to rest, and I thanked you by… nearly killing you.”

Alec wasn’t sure what to say to that -- _I didn’t even think about leaving_ \-- so he just waved his hand.

“It’s already forgotten. Do you think you can eat something?” He’d gotten Magnus to drink a few sips of water and medicinal tea while they were in and out of consciousness, but no solids. Alec picked up the wrapped food bowl, holding it up. “I have --”

And then Alec took the cloth off the top, revealing what he now realized was a pretty unappealing assortment of road-battered foods. The rice was dried out on top, the vegetables were wilted, and the bao was squished into a very weird, lopsided lump that could only charitably be described as reminiscent of a tumor.

Alec deflated. “Um.”

Magnus leaned forward curiously, examining the bowl and sniffing once.

“Honestly, I’m ravenous,” Magnus said, and looked back up at Alec. “But not for that.”

Alec swallowed, still taken aback at how piercing Magnus’s eyes were now that they were fully cognizant and focused completely on him.

Then Alec heard voices in the hall, and the door opened. Jace and Isabelle came in, bustling and excited.

* * *

Magnus eyed the new mortals warily. They’d just been starting to get accustomed to this Alec, getting a slightly firmer grip on the memories of how Alec had helped them, but who were these two?

“Alec, you won’t believe the gear I found --” the one with the topknot started saying, and then stopped walking when they saw Magnus. “Kind person,” they said without missing a beat, bowing in Magnus’s direction. “How are you feeling?”

Magnus’s brows drew together. They were an awfully solicitous bunch.

“Much better, thanks to Alec here.” Magnus drew themself up into a cross-legged sitting position, feeling at a disadvantage with these two now standing above them. “And my name is Magnus; I go by they.”

“I’m Jace; I go by he,” the one with the topknot said, introducing himself. He wore robes identical to Alec’s but didn’t have the same serious air about him. His energy was right on the surface, easy to see. “And this is my joined, Isabelle, who goes by she.”

“I’m the better half of the joining,” Isabelle said to Magnus out of the side of her mouth, grinning slyly. Magnus liked her.

“Sure, sure,” Jace said. And then, the same way Isabelle had done, he said to Magnus, “If I don’t let her say that she shaves my eyebrows while I’m sleeping.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” Isabelle sing-songed, placing her shopping bags on the floor and going to sit beside Alec. Magnus watched the obviously a comfortable routine between the two of them, lightly amused.

“We need to get Magnus a real meal,” Alec said, holding out the bowl in his hands towards them.

“Agreed,” Isabelle said instantly, looking at it.

“Perhaps you could direct me to the nearest eatery?” Magnus suggested, and their tongue began watering at the very word. These three had been very kind, but Magnus didn’t see any need to further impose, especially since it seemed like Alec had no idea why they’d been woken up.

And their body was mending more with each passing minute; although the mind and spirit were slower to follow, most likely a good meal and a bottle of wine would do wonders.

“We’ll take you,” Alec said, a little loudly. He blinked, like he hadn’t expected the words to come out of his mouth.

Isabelle and Jace both looked at him.

“We --” Jace gestured between them, pointing to Alec and then back to himself. “Are going to take Magnus to an eatery?”

Alec looked back at them, raising his eyebrows with a gaze so pointed it nearly had a palpable weight. “Ye-es,” he said firmly, stretching out the syllable.

Their silent communication went on for a moment longer, subtleties lost on Magnus, but Alec kept looking at them and they said nothing further.

“In that case,” Isabelle said, looking extremely delighted, “I know just the place. I heard someone talking about a noodle eatery in the next district over. They said the folunggwo dessert custard is to die for.”

“You had me at noodles, my peach,” Magnus chimed in, and as if to punctuate the point, their stomach growled so loudly that the other three jumped.

“Let’s go,” Alec said, suddenly all business. He stood quickly, and then offered Magnus a hand. Magnus didn’t strictly need it, but accepted anyway.

As they walked out of the building -- a daoist monastery, it looked like -- Magnus was bothered by a discomfort near the base of his spine, something pinching. What in the deiyuk was --

“Pardon me,” Magnus said, once they were outside and Isabelle was summoning the transportation. They stepped off to the side, turning their back away from the others, and reaching down to adjust the area between the waistband of the pants and the shirt they were wearing.

“Oh, that’s so much better,” they said, letting their tail free. It went up to their upper back, lightly covered in their golden fur. Luckily the shirt was long enough to cover how low they had to wear the pants, but they were definitely going to need to find some scissors after dinner.

“Whoa,” Jace said, nodding like he approved.

“Was that --” Alec squinted, something strange happening on his face. “Was that always --”

“Just got tangled up in my clothes,” Magnus explained. They weren’t entirely sure how the person who had dressed them managed to miss it, but no point getting sour about it now. They were taking Magnus out to dinner, after all, and it sounded like there was some dessert custard in their near future.

The glider slid up to them, stopping in front of the monastery entrance. Isabelle led them to the eatery, and Magnus looked at the city around them, taking in the changes. Magnus was familiar with the Hundred Villages; they’d traveled the Yue nation extensively, but the passage of time was clear in front of their eyes. The atmosphere of the city felt _different_ , from the shifts in architecture to the unrecognizable fashions. There were some familiar elements, but far more that they couldn’t place.

The world had clearly moved on while Magnus wasn’t here.

The eatery was busy, a fun and casual environment. The smells wafting out drew Magnus out of their bitter thoughts. It was a round earthen building, somewhat egg-shaped and with a cozy feel inside. The tables were low on the ground, a dark wood that grew directly out of the bamboo floor. The edges of the tables were lined with live, growing leaves, and there were round cushions on the floor. The menus were on a stone tablet that was covered in a thin film of continuously-moving water, the words and images colorful in the semi-translucent surface. It took them a moment to figure out how to “turn” the page. Magnus almost commented on the skilled elemental craftingship, but then they realized that perhaps this was commonplace now.

Magnus ordered a single dish, aware they had no currency to their name yet, and certain these two novices and their lovely spirit being companion had very little to their names. They’d collected some alms on the way here, but Magnus doubted it was much.

The others, particularly Isabelle, ordered more generously and insisted that Magnus would have to share with them.

“Tell me about the three of you,” Magnus said, once they had returned the menus and were waiting for their meals. “Where are you traveling?”

“We’re in service to a pou saat,” Alec explained. “We’re trying to find a particular san sin who may have knowledge of how to enter the Western Reach. The san sin lives somewhere in the mountains here in the Hundred Villages and we need to find a guide.”

Magnus turned their head entirely to look at Alec.

“The Western Reach?” They repeated, incredulous. These three harmless-looking souls were headed for the most dangerous, elementally-unstable place on the planet?

Alec nodded. “We’re going to retrieve the sacred lost scrolls.”

“My, my,” Magnus said, looking at the other two. “What kind of a pou saat would send you on such a perilous pilgrimage?”

“Alec here volunteered,” Jace said, nodding at Alec. “Impressed the hell out of me, and no way was I going to let him go alone.”

“Monastery life is more boring than you could possibly imagine,” Isabelle said drolly. “This is the most excitement we’ve had in years. And no offense to the pou saat, but I’m still not entirely convinced the Western Reach actually exists.”

“Oh, the Western Reach is very real,” Magnus said before they could stop themselves. From the way the three of them reacted, Magnus knew they were about to get peppered with questions they couldn’t -- or wouldn’t want -- to answer. They didn’t think they’d be doing this group any favors helping them get there, either.

“I mean, where else could the greater san sin and yiu moh gwai gwaai have gone?” Magnus added quickly, hoping that this statement was still accurate. They didn’t contradict Magnus, though, so it seemed to have done the trick.

The food came and Magnus wasn’t ashamed to admit that they practically made love to their bowl of noodles. It was full of crunchy seaweed, piquant radish, soft daufu, all cradled in a rich, steaming broth. And the thick, slippery rice noodles were practically a sensuous experience unto themselves.

Jace ate quickly, practically inhaling his dish. Isabelle took her time, nibbling, but they were both glancing at Alec periodically.

Magnus paused. “Not what you were expecting?” They asked Alec, nodding towards Alec’s bowl, which he had only filled with a small amount of soup.

“No, no, it looks great,” Alec said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

“Go ahead, Alec,” Isabelle said, a wicked tilt to her mouth. “Try it.”

Alec smiled at her wanly. He filled up his ceramic spoon with odd precision, using his chopsticks to place exactly one noodle in it, one piece of daufu, and a single strand of seaweed. He raised it to his mouth slowly, as if it were going to bite him.

He chewed once, twice, and then swallowed with an obvious effort.

“Mmmm,” he said, with one of the most strained smiles Magnus had ever seen.

At that, Isabelle and Jace couldn’t hold it together anymore, and dissolved into a fit of laughter. Alec’s mouth thinned out into a very long line and he glared at them.

“Could someone enlighten me?” Magnus asked mildly, because being a fourth wheel wasn’t their style.

“Well, they don’t use a whole lot of spices at the monastery,” Isabelle said, once she’d calmed down. “And Alec the overachiever here takes it a step further and lives on nothing but plain steamed rice, daufu, and vegetables.”

“Isabelle has tried to tempt him with outside food for _years_ ,” Jace said.

“Not a single bite,” Isabelle confirmed, shaking her head.

Magnus looked at Alec, who seemed to be getting more uncomfortable with every passing word. Magnus was all for a little fun teasing, but they felt oddly protective of the little monk.

“Well, then,” Magnus said, reaching over and laying a hand on top of Alec’s. “We’ll just order you some plain rice and vegetables.”

Alec looked at Magnus’s hand over his, and then up to Magnus’s face, blinking.

“You can… do that?”

Magnus didn’t understand Alec’s question at first, but then they realized that Alec had likely never been to an eatery before. Practitioners on the path like him ate in their monasteries or in people’s homes. Alec didn’t understand the concept of ordering off-menu because he’d never needed to use a menu before. In some ways, he was just as out of place as Magnus was.

“Coming right up,” Magnus said breezily to cover up the pang in their chest at the thought, holding up an index finger to get the server’s attention.

The front door of the eatery opened, not far from their table, and a scent wafted in, something that set them on edge, the hairs on the back of their neck rising.

Magnus’s head turned of its own accord, leading them to the source: the people who had put them in the cage, standing in the waiting area, scanning the eatery. Looking for Magnus. Trying to get them back into that goisei cage again.

Magnus’s senses changed instantly, vision going preternaturally sharp and hearing expanding. A growl began in the back of their throat and they dropped their hands to the side, claws extending.

“ _You_ ,” they hissed loudly enough to silence the room, ready to kill them.


	4. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pou saat visits them, offering Magnus a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gam jing fo ngaan = third eye  
> bo ying = karma

Alec couldn’t believe the transformation he’d just witnessed.

One minute, Magnus was talking with the three of them calmly, generously offering to help Alec order a new meal, and the next… Magnus seemed like a completely different person.

Magnus was standing a few steps from their table, hands raised at their side. Their face was drawn into a snarl, and the rage rolled off them in waves, golden eyes beginning to glow from within. They were panting like they’d be running, and their tail was coiled tight and raised behind them.

All three of them were standing, alert and poised but rooted in place, unsure of what to do. Alec scanned the room, trying to understand what had changed everything so quickly --

“They’re back,” Jace said grimly, nodding his chin towards the waiting area. Simon and Raphael had entered, and their eyes fixed on Magnus, postures equally aggressive.

“ _Earshit_ ,” Alec hissed, and then clapped his hand over his mouth as soon as he realized what’d he said, like he could shove the profanity back in.

Isabelle arched an eyebrow at him.

“Now might be a good time to start --”

But she didn’t have a chance to finish her thought, because in that moment Magnus _leaped_ , launching themself completely into the air. The eatery patrons gasped and murmured at the sight, more than a few people backing away in fear. Magnus drew their left arm high, winding up to slash down with their claws at Simon and Raphael.

“No--!” Alec cried, reaching his arm out helplessly, as if to hold Magnus back from the violent act they were about to commit.

When Alec blinked, the world went white and quiet and disappeared.

* * *

 _No,_ Magnus thought, all too familiar with this particular flavor of power, an energy that was simultaneously pure, pristine, and indifferently brutal. _No. Not again._

But as Magnus’s eyes cleared, they saw the face that went with that power. Peaceful perfection: tawny skin, softly curved lips, eyes that were piercing and engulfing. Black hair swept up into an impeccable bun, white robes rippling with the force of the pou saat’s presence.

Gunyam hadn’t changed at all, Magnus realized bitterly.

Gunyam was appearing in the eatery before the four of them; they were standing in a semi-circle around the pou saat. The rest of the patrons had been frozen in time, and the air had a hazy glow to it. The silence felt dense, and Magnus discovered that a shimmering thread was looped around their wrists, restraining them.

“Golden Leopard.” Gunyam greeted Magnus without moving their lips. Gunyam’s voice crashed into Magnus’s mind like stormy ocean waves, like silent thunder shattering stone, and Magnus clenched their teeth.

“Gunyam,” Magnus spat out, pure venom. They saw Alec flinch in the periphery of their vision.

“Great Compassionate, you honor us with your presence,” Alec said, bowing his head, and Jace and Isabelle quickly followed suit.

“I come to offer you a choice, Golden Leopard.” Gunyam was reactionless to it all. Their impenetrable, blank composure just made Magnus’s blood boil more.

Magnus strained against the thread, growling in frustration when they couldn’t break it.

“A choice?” Magnus practically roared, and this time all three of the group flinched back. Magnus held up his wrists, shaking them at Gunyam. “Like the last choice that you and your Sage gave me, you bloodless cowards?”

“Magnus,” Alec choked out, his hand on his chest. His face had drained of color and he looked ill. “You can’t speak to the pou saat like that.”

“You know nothing,” Magnus hissed at him, no patience for the little monk’s blind devotion right now.

“It is time to choose your path,” Gunyam continued, unperturbed. They took two steps forward, coming to stand in front of Magnus. A hint of sadness tinged their gentle smile. “Your bo ying is tangled and far-reaching, Golden Leopard. I awoke you to offer you this opportunity, a chance to begin untangling those threads.”

“I see,” Magnus said, the pieces slipping into places. Gunyam was the one who had roused Magnus, pulling Magnus out of his interminable dreamless slumber. All because they needed Magnus to perform some kind of fool’s errand. “And what is this glorious service that you would you have me perform, O Great Compassionate?”

“Join them.” Gunyam gestured to Magnus’s three companions. “Protect them on their pilgrimage.”

Exactly as they’d thought. Escorting three fresh-faced youths to their deaths, all to find some moldering scrolls.

“And let me guess,” Magnus said, already knowing the answer. “If I decline, I go back under the mountain.”

Gunyam looked at Magnus for a long moment, and then seemed to sigh, the whisper of a breeze rippling over a still lake.

“You would destroy the middle realm, unchecked.” Gunyam confirmed. “We cannot allow it.”

Magnus laughed, a hollow and unkind sound. Gunyam wasn’t entirely wrong, although they were leaving out important parts of the story. Magnus looked at the three of them, their innocent eyes wide and shocked at Magnus’s flagrant disrespect for their beloved pou saat. Magnus looked at Alec, who’d been nothing but kind to them; his disappointment was clear in the deep lines of his frown.

No matter, Magnus decided, breaking eye contact. Magnus would go along until they could find another way out. These three wouldn’t want Magnus along, not after this, but they’d only have to abide for a little while.

Magnus already knew what their answer was. They would rather travel the ten courts of deiyuk than go back into the formless dark. Tagging along on a fool’s errand was a small price to pay to escape.

“Very well.” Magnus acceded.

As soon as they said it, the air shifted, like electricity gathering.

“It is done,” Gunyam said, silent voice reverberating throughout the entire room.

Their form began to shift, a light slowly building from within, their flesh becoming translucent as the brightness grew. They took another step towards Magnus, raising their hand to Magnus’s face. Before Magnus had time to react, Gunyam touched Magnus’s gam jing fo ngaan with the tip of their middle finger.

 _Blessings on your journey_ , Magnus heard, an incredible energy infusing them. They became everything and nothing, all at once, their single self shattered into a million pieces. They were the salted earth of a sea parched beneath the sun, the terrible groan of a tree split at the trunk by a strike of lightning. They were the deep cold of the frozen north, permeated with secrets and histories in the impenetrable, lightless ice. _Remember that there is power in creation, too, my bright one._

Magnus gasped, staggering back, as Gunyam went on to bless the other three. A bright white light flashed when they touched Alec’s forehead, and when Gunyam drew back, Alec looked at his pou saat with pure wonder and joy. Isabelle came away with tears in her eyes, placing a hand over her mouth as if overwhelmed with gratitude. Jace, in contrast, looked troubled after receiving his blessing, but thanked the pou saat anyway.

 _The path is narrow, and treacherous_ , Gunyam said to them all, as reality dissolved around them once again. _Look to each other when you cannot find the way._


	5. Inextricable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus and Isabelle talk; Alec is conflicted; they reach the next village.

“Remind me again why we’re walking,” Magnus said to Isabelle. “When there are any number of crafts we could use to get to the next village?”

Isabelle gestured back towards Alec and Jace with her head; they were taking up the rear, walking in silent meditation.

“No ‘frivolous elemental conveniences’ for those two unless absolutely necessary.”

“Has anyone considered that you may want to complete your pilgrimage sometime before the century is up?” Magnus’s vitality was almost fully restored, so the physical exertion didn’t tire them, but they weren’t immune to boredom. The road stretched ominously into the distance.

Isabelle leaned closer to Magnus, lowering her voice. “I’m sure we’ll be able to wear them down. After a few days of blisters, we can convince them that an air sleeve is in the best interests of serving the pou saat.”

“You’re a devious one, aren’t you,” Magnus said, admiringly.

“I have my ways,” Isabelle said, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a smile. She wore it long and loose, a style that was new to Magnus.

She was wearing knee-length light orange pants, which had a subtle metallic strip along the outside that went from her hip to top of her knee. Some type of iron, Magnus thought, catching a whiff of it in the air, and she had matching iron bracelets around each wrist. It was her shirt that fascinated Magnus: a seemingly simple form-fitting red fabric, but along her forearms it became stripes of fabric alternating with stripes of skin, creating an interesting tiger effect.

They’d have to get some of her advice about current fashions. The plain gray pants and shirt they were wearing would not do, not at all.

“Isabelle,” Magnus said after a moment of silence, looking out towards the mountains to the North. “What year is it?”

Magnus could feel Isabelle watching them, but carefully didn’t look back. They weren’t entirely sure they were ready for the answer, but they were too impatient to continue in suspense any longer.

“7,149 of the Yin Epoch,” Isabelle said.

Magnus closed their eyes, air knocked out of their chest. Somehow, they kept their feet moving forward, because this was not the time for all the fawning these three were prone to doing.

Over five hundred years.

Over five hundred years they’d been down there, rotting away while the world passed them by. Long enough that even the fantasies of revenge and triumph had grown stale. Long enough that at some point, all thoughts faded, and all they’d wished for was the end.

Well, Magnus supposed, there was that. It was over, and they’d do everything in power to keep it that way. Magnus composed themself, clearing their throat.

“I see,” they said, aiming for casual but falling quite short.

“You were down there for a long time?” Isabelle said, too gently.

“It appears so,” Magnus said, kicking at a pebble and watching it skitter in the dirt. They shook their head slightly, as if to dislodge the memories, and looked back at Isabelle. “And what’s your story? What’s a layperson like you doing on a journey like this?”

“Well, I am a lay follower,” Isabelle said. “I love the teachings of the Sage. But the ordained life definitely isn’t for me. Way too many rules.”

“Spiceless food, celibate nights, and only meditation for entertainment?” Magnus raised an index finger for emphasis. “No thank you.”

“Well, the celibacy thing is…” Isabelle tilted her head to the side. “Complicated.”

“Oh?” Magnus said lightly, glancing back.

“It’s been loosening up recently, and in the South there are lots of monks who are paired. But there’s still this whole idea that if you’re a ‘real’ monk that you take the vow for life,” Isabelle said, sighing. “I have more than a few friends who are really torn about it.”

Magnus returned their gaze to Isabelle, sensing something.

“A particular friend, perhaps?”

“There is,” Isabelle said after a moment, biting the corner of her lip. “She’s been struggling with it for the last few months.”

A flock of birds in a large formation flew overhead, casting temporary shadows over them.

“You’re a prize,” Magnus said sincerely. They always trusted their instincts about people, and their instincts told them that Isabelle was someone worth trusting. “She’d be lucky to have you.”

Isabelle sighed, looking off to the side. “Well, I haven’t had much luck so far,” she admitted. “And not to be full of myself, but this kind of thing usually comes easily to me.”

“Is she playing hard to get?” Magnus asked, all too familiar with that particular push and pull. They were practically the master of it at this point.

“No,” Isabelle shook her head emphatically. “Clary’s not like that. I think she’s just… not really sure what world she belongs in.”

“Ah,” Magnus said. “Well, I’m sure she’ll come around. Think of it like this: the days she spends without you will be her equivalent of blisters.”

Isabelle looked at Magnus for a moment, and then a small, secretive emerged. “I hope you’re right.”

They continued walking in comfortable silence, listening to the hum of the cicadas in the fields. Magnus tried to resist scratching what felt like an insect bite behind their left ear, but eventually gave in, using the pad of their finger.

“I have another question for you, my peach.” Magnus said. They were approaching the forest, more trees dotting the path.

“Shoot,” she said.

“Were you scandalized?” Magnus said, watching for her reaction closely. “After the way I spoke to your pou saat?”

Scandalized didn’t even come close to covering Alec’s reaction. After Gunyam had disappeared, they’d woken up in the taoist monastery instead of the eatery. (Naturally, they couldn’t even let Magnus finish their first meal in five hundred years. If it wasn’t in service to the glorious Sage and all her wisdom, it was irrelevant.)

The entire evening, Alec’s eyes had radiated a very special brand of judgment, a righteous disdain so concentrated that it set Magnus’s teeth on edge. His training also meant that Alec was the literal master of the silent treatment, which was deeply irritating, but probably was the only thing that kept them verbally engaging. Luckily Jace had broken the tension by peppering Magnus with questions about Magnus’s experience and training, clearly fascinated by their physical prowess.

“Mm.” Isabelle nodded, once, breathing in through her nose. “You were… brutal.”

“I’m aware,” Magnus said mildly.

“But you two obviously have history, so who am I to judge?” She concluded, shrugging her shoulders. As if it were nothing. Maybe to her it was. She ran her hand idly over the bark of a tree they were passing, skimming her fingertips over the red bark.

“I…” Magnus said. They couldn’t remember the last time someone had given them the benefit of the doubt that easily. It was a pleasant surprise. Their instinct about her hadn’t been wrong. “Thank you, Isabelle.”

“Oooh, do you think that’s edible?” Isabelle asked, pointing at a bush heavy with purple berries.

Magnus smiled, extending one of their hands with a flourish. “Let’s go and find out, shall we?”

* * *

“You’re making it weird, Alec,” Jace said out of nowhere, completely disrupting Alec’s concentration. Not that his walking meditation had been going very well, but Jace had no way of knowing that.

Alec swiveled his head, squinting balefully at Jace.

“ _I’m_ making things weird?” Alec shook his head. “This is not what we signed up for.”

“Are you kidding, man?” Jace spread his palms, shaking them. “This is _exactly_ what we signed up for. The whole point of an adventure is that nothing goes according to plan.”

“Of course you would think that,” Alec sighed.

“Look, I get it.” Jace’s voice became somber. “Magnus reviled our pou saat. I was upset, too.”

“Could have fooled me,” Alec muttered, mouth pressing into a thin line.

“Don’t be like that.” Jace rubbed his hand over his jaw. “I know I’m not the perfect devout novice like you are, but I’ve given my life to the pou saat’s service, just like you have.”

Alec knew he was right. They disagreed about conduct constantly -- well, Alec disagreed with Jace’s conduct -- but they’d been walking the eightfold path side by side since they were children. Jace could be unorthodox, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dedicated.

“Mmhou yi si,” Alec said, chastised.

Jace waved it away.

“Like I said, I get it.” Jace adjusted his pack on his back. “But if the pou saat wasn’t angry, shouldn’t we follow their example?”

“I’m not --” Alec looked back down at the road. His robe swished forward and backward with each step. “Okay, maybe I was.” It had taken an inordinate amount of loving-kindness recitations to move past it, too. “I guess… I just can’t understand it. How could someone _hate_ the pou saat like that?”

It went against every fiber of Alec’s being to even imagine it. There was something personal about the way Magnus’s words had cut, too -- Alec strived for nothing greater than becoming like the pou saat and the Sage. Hating what they represented included hating Alec, too, because they were an inextricable part of him.

“I have no idea.” Jace gestured ahead with a tilt of his head. Magnus and Isabelle were walking ahead of them, chatting animatedly. “Why not ask them yourself?”

 _Because everything about them is confusing me_ , Alec thought.

“I’ll keep meditating on it,” Alec hedged.

“Let me put it to you this way,” Jace said, getting a look in his eye, like he did when he was about to knock Alec to the floor during their martial arts lessons. Alec always saw it coming, but could never stop it. “Do you trust the pou saat?”

“Of course,” Alec replied automatically.

“Then trust that they knew what they were doing sending Magnus our way.”

Alec ran his tongue over his back teeth. There it was, the kick that swept Alec’s feet out from underneath him. Alec found he didn’t mind too much, though; he’d needed the reminder.

“You got me there,” he said, finally, smiling.

“I know,” Jace said, a vision in smugness.

“Yeah, yeah.” Alec said. He made a shoo-ing gesture with his hand. “Now go bug them and let me finish my meditation.”

“Right away, O Noble One,” Jace said, giving Alec a formal bow with a laugh before speeding up his pace to catch up to the others ahead.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. They’d already eaten their lunch meal, so there was no more reason to stop until dark. Alec alternated throughout the day, doing an hour of walking meditation and then an hour of rest. Jace occasionally dropped back to complain -- about how much his feet hurt, how hot the sun was, and were they almost there?

Alec tried not to encourage Jace -- _seems a lot more romantic in the sinhap novels, doesn’t it?_ \-- but Alec was feeling it, too. Alec’s stamina had faded a few hours in and it only got worse from there. The slow, deliberate walking meditations they did at the monastery were nothing like this relentless pace, and this terrain wasn’t a well-maintained garden. They passed through fields and maple forests, the land lush and verdant.

Towards the end of the day, the practice was the only thing that kept him walking: _lifting, moving, dropping,_ over and over again. The soles of his feet were burning, his thighs were trembling, and the beating sun had plastered his robes to his back.

“Bless the Sage,” Jace practically groaned when the village was in sight. Alec, too tired to say anything, just nodded.

Like the last village, this was like nothing Alec had ever seen before. He’d known in a theoretical sense that many of the Yue settlements were water-based, but his vague mental images had been of Gwongdung-style cities with a few extra creeks and ponds here and there.

Not a city literally floating on top of an enormous, crystalline lake. The sunset made the surface of the water rosy. Alec blinked a few times, shaking his head to clear the spots that were dancing around the edge of his vision.

“Isn’t it beautiful, Jace?” Isabelle said when they caught up to her and Magnus. “I’ve always wanted to visit a laketop.” Since Isabelle was a lay practitioner she was able to watch lightstreams and other non-religious media, and she’d always been fascinated by travel streams.

“As long as there are some beds with our names on them, it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,” Jace said, wiping his forehead.

“You two look like wilted lettuce,” Isabelle said, glancing at their hunched frames and dragging feet. “I keep telling the abbot that running meditation should be a thing.”

Alec had always thought the notion was ridiculous, but at this moment he couldn’t argue that a few sessions before they’d started their pilgrimage might have been wise. Isabelle swore by her evening runs, and she did usually seem calmer afterwards.

Alec swayed with his next step, straightening himself quickly. His head felt thick, syrupy, concentration slipping out of his grasp.

“I will one hundred percent back you up on that when we get home.” Jace said. They were approaching the edge of the village. “Please tell me that’s the glider station over there.”

Alec noticed that Magnus had fallen into step next to him. Or had Alec fallen into step with Magnus? No way to tell.

Alec looked at Magnus, feeling like there was something he was supposed to say.

“I --” was all he managed to get out before his limbs gave out, and he was falling.


	6. Proper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find a guide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #fun with worldbuilding
> 
> san sin = immortal people

Alec woke up with a pounding headache and parched mouth.

“Welcome back,” Magnus said softly. Alec blinked, turning on the bed mat to find Magnus beside him, sitting in lotus posture.

“It seems like just yesterday we were doing this in reverse,” they said with a quirk of their mouth. They reached down, picking up a ceramic cup and holding it out for Alec. “Oh, wait, it was. Now drink up, you’re severely dehydrated.”

Alec took a sip. It was a refreshing tea, with floral notes and gauji berries. He drained the cup with a few more sips, savoring the soothing slide down his throat.

“What happened?” He asked, voice still croaking a little. He cleared his throat, while Magnus had refilled his cup.

“I surmise that you passed out from a combination of exhaustion, dehydration, and hunger. We brought you here to the temple.” Magnus raised an index finger, gesturing at Alec. “You’ll have to be more careful in the future, monk.”

“I’m not a monk,” Alec replied automatically.

“So the robes are just a,” Magnus waved a hand expressively, “fashion statement?”

“I’ve taken the vows of a novice,” Alec said, licking his lips. “I’m not ordained, yet.”

“Very well --” Magnus inclined his head. “You’ll have to be more careful in the future, young novice.”

Alec, with some effort, pulled himself up into a sitting position. He clasped his hands at the center of his chest and inclined his head towards Magnus. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to dig a hole in the floor and climb in, but he knew the right conduct for a situation like this.

“I apologize that I was burden, Magnus. Thank you for your help. This poor novice won’t let this happen again.”

Magnus pursed their lips, humming in the back of their throat, idly scratching behind their left ear.

“You are just so very proper,” they said musingly, almost to themself. They blinked, looking back at Alec. “Anyway, they told me that tomorrow we’d be staying in town to search for a guide, so you’ll have a chance to rest your feet.”

Alec hadn’t noticed until Magnus mentioned it; he pulled the blanket off his legs to see that his feet had been bandaged, and he could feel a salve on the skin. It also felt like salve had been worked into his calves and thighs; the muscles were much more relaxed.

“It stings a little,” Alec observed, shifting his legs.

“It’s worth the discomfort, trust me,” Magnus said. “You’ll heal twice as fast, and the increased bloodflow to the area will help your muscles rebuild stronger.”

“You’re a healer?” Alec asked. That seemed at odds with the image of the aggressive fighter from the eatery.

Magnus danced their fingers in the air. “I dabble.”

Alec swallowed, uncomfortable with this kindness when he’d been so quick to judge. “Magnus, I thank --”

Magnus reached forward with one of the fingers they had in the air, hovering it not even a breath from Alec’s lips.

“You’re grateful, I get the picture. But I prefer if words like that come from genuine sentiment, not something you’re taught to do by rote.”

The moment stretched, a wire being drawn tight, almost to its breaking point. Alec swallowed, feeling his cheeks flame. Magnus watched him steadily, the golden irises of their eyes almost flashing in the low light of the room.

Alec exhaled audibly when Magnus finally withdrew their hand.

“Of course. I -- of course,” Alec stammered. Then, because he wanted to do better, he searched for the words. “I’m -- I’m really new to all of this. I mean, obviously. So thanks -- for, you know. All your help. With everything.”

Magnus’s expression lightened, easing into something softer.

“Think nothing of it,” Magnus said. They reached out, tugging the blanket back down over Alec’s feet. “Now get some rest.”

Alec’s brow furrowed. “Isabelle and Jace?” He asked, as he laid down and made himself comfortable.

“Asleep. I told them there was no point in all three of staying awake to watch you.”

The exhaustion was weighing down on Alec again, making his eyelids heavy. What time was it? How long had Magnus been here, waiting for him?

“You should get some sleep, too, Magnus,” Alec said drowsily.

Magnus’s voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear it as he nodded off. “I’ve had enough to last lifetimes.”

* * *

Jace and Isabelle had found a guide, and they were meeting her in a tea house at the edge of the laketop. Magnus had watched carefully, but thankfully Alec had only flinched for the first few steps. The rest and Magnus’s ointment had done the trick.

The tea house was located in the shadow of the mountains, a simple bare clay-and-wood affair. They sat at a low table with cushions for seats. The guide, Maia, had ordered them a pot of silver pine needle tea and had already poured the first round, which they sipped as they discussed the particulars of the trip.

Maia was wearing a brown vest and black pants, all made from thick, sturdy material. The garments had pockets on seemingly every available stretch of fabric. Her hair was short, she wore no jewelry, and she had an easy, friendly demeanor.

“Sure, I can take you to the san sin summit,” Maia said. “But the faster you want to get to the top, the more it’ll cost.”

Jace and Alec shared a look.

“What’s the most economical way?” Alec said. “We have funds, but they’re limited.”

“Well, let’s take stock.” Maia rapped her knuckles on the tabletop. “Do any of you have air or water elemental abilities?”

“Nope, I’m wood.” Jace said. “And my joined is metal, iron specifically.”

“Well, you never know what could be useful,” Maia said diplomatically, scribbling a note down in her lightscroll, which was hovering a few inches above the table at an angle. It was far more sleek and beautiful than the ones that had existed in Magnus’s time, a transparent sheet of light that she could position anywhere she wanted in the air.

“I’m water, but specifically ice,” Alec said. “And I’m not very… skilled.”

“Right, right,” Maia said, nodding. “I forgot you holy types don’t train like the rest of us.” Then she turned her attention to Magnus.

Magnus sighed. In the old days, they would have been able to leap to the top of a mountain in a single bound, or call a cloud down to carry all of them up. And from what little probing they’d done since waking up, they weren’t able to access any of their elemental energy channels.

“I could carry all of you while running,” Magnus said. “In a pinch.”

Jace’s eyes went comically wide, his mouth dropping open. “Are you _kidding_?”

Magnus normally would have preened at such open adoration, but this was just a reminder of how much they’d lost in the mountain. They waved a hand. “It’s nothing to get excited about. A mere pittance of my former glory.”

“They did carry Alec like he weighed nothing,” Isabelle said brightly, a smile dancing on her lips.

At that, Alec glanced at Magnus, brows furrowing. Magnus hadn’t mentioned it to Alec, preferring to let him assume that Jace had done it. The uneasy lines at the corners of Alec’s mouth stung a little, but Magnus didn’t have any illusions that patching up the novice’s feet was going to make things completely comfortable between the two of them.

Maia nodded. “Good to know, that could definitely come in handy.” She considered her lightscroll, swiping her finger to scan through the text.

“Well,” she concluded. “None of that helps us with the actual transportation part, because the cheapest options are by air or by creek. I think your best bet is if we take short-jump airsleeves part of the way up, and then the rest of the way we’ll have to walk. My time costs money, but specialized wilderness crafts aren’t worth the up-front investment unless you’re planning on doing this on a regular basis.”

“No, we’re just passing through,” Isabelle said.

“Right, so we’re looking at three to five days total to reach the summit. Do you have gear?” Maia asked. “Fire-infused rolls, waterproof shelters, trail food or cookware, that kind of thing?”

Alec’s mouth stretched into a very awkward shape. “Er…”

“Since we don’t know what any of that stuff is,” Jace finished for him. “I’m going to say none of the above.”

“Speak for yourself,” Isabelle said tartly in Jace’s direction. “I’ve… heard of those things,” she finished sheepishly, as if realizing halfway through that she wasn’t helping their case.

Maia looked at them with a skeptical expression.

“And you’re all sure you want to do this? This isn’t some weekend camping trip, the terrain’s going to get pretty rough.”

“It’s a pilgrimage, kumquat,” Magnus said, tracing the tip of their finger around the rim of the ceramic tea cup. “Suffering is part of the package.”

“Ri-ight,” Maia said, tone amused. “Well, more power to you. I have gear we can use, but if you’re going to be on the road you may want to get your own when we come back down, because not every village in this area is as well-stocked as this one.”

“Can you give us some pointers for good shops?” Alec asked.

“Definitely, I can tell who’ll give you the good stuff for a fair price.” Maia grabbed the teapot, refilling all of their cups. She slid her lightscroll to the center of the table. “That’s the best I can offer, and that’s throwing in a ten percent discount.”

“You’re taking pity on us, aren’t you?” Isabelle said, shaking her head. “We’re kinda pathetic.”

Maia laughed, raising her palms in the air. “Hey, you said it, not me.”

Jace whistled at the number. “Hey, I’ll take the pity. This is going to clean us out.”

Magnus glanced at the figure, making a note of Jace’s reaction. They didn’t really have a point of reference for the value of modern currency, and it was time to start remedying that.

“I’ll beg alms tonight,” Alec said.

“Well, you’ll have some time to do that. It’s already late today, and I need all of tomorrow to gear up. So we’d be leaving the day after tomorrow at first light.”

“Thank you for your consideration, kind person,” Alec said formally, inclining his head towards her. “We appreciate your expertise and skill.”

Maia tilted her head to the side. “Is that monk talk for saying we’ve got a deal?”

Alec laughed a little. “Yes, should I…?” He gestured towards the bottom of the contract on the lightscroll. Maia indicted where he should sign, and he wrote the characters for his name. She followed suit.

“Ging cha!” Maia said, raising her cup to signify the successful sealing of the contract. They all raised their cups with her, and drank at the same time.

They chatted for a few minutes longer after that, finalizing details and arranging the final meetup. When they parted ways, Maia walked off with purpose, hopping into a glider with a wave. Jace and Isabelle had done well; Maia seemed exceedingly competent.

“I’ll catch up with you in the evening,” Magnus begged off as the other three headed back to the temple. Alec and Jace were going to beg alms, and Isabelle was going to get funds to purchase all-weather clothing for the group. “If you could get me something fabulous while you’re at it,” they said in an aside to Isabelle.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone to say that to me,” she said, grinning delightedly.

Magnus had been tempted to go with her to begin their fashion education, but they wanted the chance to explore the laketop and observe. They were keenly aware of how out of place they were, and the only way to gain their footing in this new time was to get a sense of how things worked. They needed to be able to focus on the small details -- the price of a peach, how to purchase items at a shop, or the way people greeted each other. They'd fumbled the wrist-tap greeting Maia had offered earlier, and they hated clumsy little moments like that. It was hundreds of small details, and some much larger changes which they were still wrapping their mind around.

There were no yiu moh gwai gwaai running around the streets, for one. Either that, or they were all excellent shapeshifters, and they would have no way of knowing since their gam jing fo ngaan seemed to be blocked. They had always been able to see the true forms of yiu moh gwai gwaai effortlessly, whether they were shapeshifting or casting an illusion.

The greater yiu moh gwai gwaai had left in Magnus’s lifetime, but the the mortal-sized ones had still lived among the humans and spirit beings. San sin were common and it didn’t require five-day treks to find them in the mountain tops. Elemental magic had only been in the beginning stages of what it was now. The human-spirit being bonds hadn’t been deep enough to call forth such potent elemental power.

The faster they got a grasp on all this, the faster they could leave the group. They were also forming a vague notion of trying to derail the pilgrimage before they left, in the interests of saving the lives of these three clueless marshmallows. They had to admit they were a bit attached to them, and didn’t like the idea of them perishing in agony, pointlessly.

So as easy as it would be to slip off right now, they needed time to plan their next moves. To find their footing in this time, gather resources, figure out a way around Gunyam, and hopefully get these three back to their uneventful lives. Simple enough.


	7. Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They begin their mountain trek, and Magnus protects Alec.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yiu moh gwai gwaai is kind of a mouthful, so I'm going to use the shorter form instead.
> 
> Yiu moh gwai gwaai --> yiugwai = all manner of "evil" creatures

The next days passed uneventfully. They prepared for the journey, Alec and Jace begging alms around the laketop and Isabelle packing up their gear. Magnus took the small amount of currency that Jace had given them yesterday, and found a few games of cards and dice, tripling the amount.

They used a little of it to explore modern cuisine of the region. The monastery fare wasn’t as bad as Isabelle had made it sound, featuring a nice variety of mushrooms and aquatic plants, but Magnus was an insatiable epicure and there was so much to try.

The next morning they all met at the crack of dawn in the shadow of the mountain. Maia introduced her joined, Lydia, who would be coming along on the trip. Lydia and Isabelle gravitated towards each other, speaking in a mix of the common tongue and the spirit being tongue, Isabelle gesturing with animation. Maia explained to the group what to expect from the day, and then the six of them set off.

The first portion of the trip was a bumpy ascent in the short-jump airsleeves. They were made of air-infused fabric that wrapped around their bodies and allowed them to fly for a short distance, steering with a thin rope that hung down the front. The sleeves were nowhere near as graceful or serene as Magnus’s cloud, but they supposed the technology was impressive in a way.

Maia, Lydia, and Isabelle cruised through the air easily, while Alec, Jace, and Magnus lagged choppily behind.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Alec groaned when they were forty feet up, high enough that they wouldn’t run into any trees. He kept swinging around wildly on his center of gravity, so it was no wonder he was nauseated.

“Be sure to point your face away from me,” Magnus called back with a wrinkled nose. But they kept an eye on him, prepared to intervene if he started to fall.

Jace already seemed to be gaining more control, no doubt tapping into his bond with Isabelle to get a feel for it, since she had experience using these before.

“This is awesome!” Jace crowed, stretching his non-steering arm out and laughing as the wind whipped through his hair, which he’d taken out of its topknot before they ascended.

The ride only lasted for about ten minutes, which Maia explained was as far as they could go because of the altitude and wind conditions. Short-jump airsleeves were mainly intended for flying around cities, not for braving the thin air and extreme wind velocity of twenty-thousand foot high mountains.

“Bless the Sage,” Alec exhaled shakily when they were back on land, standing in place with a slight sway while Maia and Lydia organized the packs and gear they’d transported in luggage sleeves.

Magnus disentangled himself from the white fabric and then walked over to Alec. They reached a hand out, near Alec’s wrist.

“May I?” They asked. “I know something that may help.”

“Uh,” Alec blinked. “Sure.”

Magnus grasped Alec’s arms delicately by the wrists, bringing them perpendicular with Alec’s body.

“Now, on this hand, I want you to put your first three fingers like this,” Magnus said, demonstrating with their own hand. Alec imitated the gesture, and Magnus adjusted his arms so that his three fingers were pressing onto the noi gwaan pressure point, just below the wrist. “Good. Apply pressure and gently massage for a few seconds, repeating as needed.”

Alec followed Magnus’s instructions, biting the corner of his lip with concentration. It was just a little adorable.

“I think I feel it,” he said. “Wow, that’s a lot better already.” Alec looked up, suddenly breaking out into a breathtaking smile, like nothing Magnus had seen on his face until this moment.

Magnus blinked: once, twice, three times.

“Good,” Magnus said a beat too late, the very picture of eloquent elocution.

“I appreciate your --” Alec visibly stopped himself, the smile fading into concentration again. “Wait, sorry, I can do this --”

Alec closed his eyes for a few seconds, and then exhaled, his shoulders relaxing.

“Thanks, Magnus,” he said simply and sincerely.

Not only had Alec remembered Magnus’s words, but he was making a visible effort to take them to heart. Magnus had a feeling this novice was going to be dangerous for their health.

“Think nothing of it,” they said breezily, giving Alec a quick and polite smile. Then, without waiting for a response, they spun on their heels and walked off to join the others.

* * *

Magnus felt a certain contentment as they sank into the rhythm of the walk. It was monotonous, certainly, but the air up here was deliciously crisp in a way that reminded them of home. Long before their imprisonment, they’d spent their formative years climbing staggering peaks and sleeping in dark, secret caves that were carved into the side of the flowering mountain where they were born.

It took Magnus a few steps to realize, but Isabelle was no longer by their side. They turned back, concerned, seeing that she was simply standing in place and staring into space. They took a few steps closer, tilting their head to examine her.

“Are you all right, Isabelle?”

Isabelle’s gaze re-focused on Magnus, and then a brilliant smile broke across her face.

“I think you were right,” she said, stepping forward and grabbing Magnus’s shoulder.

“Of course I was,” Magnus said easily. Then they circled a hand through the air. “About what, exactly?”

“I just felt Clary, through our link,” Isabelle said. She dropped her hand from Magnus’s shoulder, looking ahead and seeing that the rest of the group was looking back at them. “Coming!” she called, and they resumed their trek.

As Magnus understood it, a link was a bond between two spirit beings. Not a lifelong connection like a joining, but with the possibility for romance.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Magnus said, dropping their voice conspiratorially. “You never mentioned you two had a link.”

“Just as friends,” Isabelle said quickly. She smiled and shrugged, a pleased expression on her face. “It just kind of… happened.”

“These things often do,” Magnus said. They were just a handful of paces behind the others now, the low murmur of Jace, Maia, and Lydia talking drifting back. Alec was looking down at the road, likely meditating.

“She was thinking of me,” Isabelle said quietly, like she was almost afraid to believe it.

Magnus’s eyebrows shot up. “Was she, now?”

Isabelle leaned in, her eyes wide. “I heard, ‘I wish Isabelle were here.’”

Magnus took her in, her nervousness, the budding hopefulness in her eyes, and couldn’t help the broad smile that spread across their face. It almost ached, like their face didn’t remember the shape, but they were powerless before such sweet effervescence.

“Just as I told you, my peach,” Magnus said warmly, tapping their index finger under the bottom of her chin affectionately. “This Clary knows a good thing when she finds it.”

“I keep telling you she’s into you!” Jace called back, suddenly. Talking to Jace or Isabelle always meant the other might tune into parts of the conversation because of their joined bond, which Magnus was still getting used to.

“Magnus is more convincing!” Isabelle shouted back, in a tone that was the verbal equivalent of sticking a tongue out.

“Whatever, just send her a mushy aim and get it over with, already!”

“No, no, no,” Magnus said, wagging a finger in Jace’s direction. “That’s terrible advice.”

Jace threw his hands up in a gesture of defeat, grumbling something inaudible.

“So what should I do?” Isabelle asked.

“Well,” Magnus said, pursing their lips. “She’s skittish, right?”

Isabelle nodded. “Very. That’s part of the problem, I can sometimes come on kind of… strong.”

“Well, if she was thinking of you, then…” Magnus considered, letting the answer rise out of their intuition. “She’d probably like to know that you’re thinking of her.” Then they realized that they weren’t clear on all the details of how these bonds worked. “Is that something you can do? Send her a thought?”

Isabelle nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I’ve done it before. I just need to be able to concentrate for a few minutes, and think it very clearly.”

“Excellent.” Magnus said. “It’ll be much more personal than an aim that way.”

“Thanks, Magnus,” Isabelle said, grinning. “I’ll do it tonight, once we’ve set up camp.”

Magnus stayed silent as they hiked up the next rise in the trail, letting Isabelle bask in her glow for awhile longer, before speaking again.

“So a link like that, does it affect your bond with Jace?” Magnus asked.

Isabelle shrugged. “The same way it would if he paired up with a human. We’d both feel a shift in our other half, and some of the energy kind of… bleeds through.” She shifted her gaze to look ahead at Jace, eyes going affectionate. “But it doesn’t lessen our bond, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Fascinating,” Magnus said. The more connections the merrier, they supposed.

“You don’t…” Isabelle seemed to be trying to find the words to ask her question, brow furrowing. “You’re not a spirit being, right?”

“I’m --” _A scourge. A regent. A fallen demi-deity._

Magnus sighed. “There isn’t really a word for what I am. I’m immortal, but not a san sin. I have my other form, a leopard, but I don’t come from your realm.”

“Okay,” Isabelle said, taking that in with a nod.

“Bonds for my kind aren’t so formalized,” Magnus went on. “At least, in my time. We had a tendency to make up our own rules back then.”

Isabelle’s eyes shifted, lighting up. “So you’re single, then?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Magnus said, shaking their head vehemently. “Do not follow that thread of thought any further, my peach. I am no such thing.”

“What?” She said, eyes innocently wide. “I was just asking.”

“Mm hm,” Magnus hummed skeptically. “The way a wolf might ‘just ask’ a rabbit where they’re headed.”

Isabelle formed a circle with her lips, blowing out air. “Low blow, Magnus. I would never eat a cute bunny, no matter what form I'm in.”

“We’ll have to go single file up ahead,” Maia called back, gesturing to where the path narrowed over a steep canyon. They’d have to scoot along carefully, hugging the side of the mountain. 

_Saved by the canyon_ , Magnus thought, though they somehow sensed that Isabelle wasn’t so easy to distract once something grabbed her attention.

* * *

When evening fell, they set up camp at a series of small platforms that were staggered at different levels.

Jace, Isabelle, and Magnus took the lowest and widest one, Maia and Lydia the middle one, and Alec was by himself on the highest. Maia distributed fire-infused metal cookware, which heated whatever was placed inside. The salted tofu, crispy seaweed, and dried yam was semi-palatable once it was cooked. Lydia was a fire elemental, and created hovering sphere-lights for them, but after about an hour everyone was ready for bed.

Magnus insisted Maia and Lydia go to sleep, because they were going to be awake anyway, so they may as well keep watch. 

Magnus spent the first hour reviewing the information they’d learned today, mostly from quizzing Isabelle and Jace. Apparently the yiugwai mostly lived in the wilderness, now, and a lot of their population had been hunted. The chaotic co-existence they’d had with mortals had shifted over time. The san sin had retreated from society of their own accord, some of them moving into the high mountains and some leaving for the Western Reach, joining the first wave that had left during Magnus’s time.

The mortals and spirit beings had learned how to deepen their bonds, accessing purer forms of elemental energy and even gaining the ability to combine their powers. Jace had told an animated story of how he and Isabelle had tried once, but they’d only ended up with a pile of molten iron and black ashes for their efforts. That kind of mastery required a level of skill that Jace had never attained, since in the monastery they discouraged using elemental abilities outside of spiritual practices.

Magnus found the concept interesting, on an intellectual level. They’d had relationships, certainly, but to connect with another being on such an intimate and energetic level sounded… distinctly different. Well, except for --

Magnus shook their head, dismissing the memories. They weren’t going down that thread, not tonight. It was just pure speculation, anyway, because joinings were done when the humans and spirit beings were still young, rarely later than three to four years old. They’d passed that mark by quite a few centuries.

The second hour was when they started to get restless, so they moved quietly off a ways to practice their physical cultivation.

“Time to get this rusty body back into form,” they said quietly to themself.

But before they’d even lowered their knees to get into the first position, they sensed something was off. The fine hairs along their spine raised in warning.

Magnus crouched, hands splayed wide at their sides, and inhaled slowly through their nostrils.

When they caught the scent, their claws extended and their vision shifted, allowing them to see in the pitch black. _Serpent yiu,_ they identified, recognizing the smell of scale and venom. More than one of them.

They turned toward the scent, raising and lowering their feet in absolute silence, muscles bunching in anticipation.

There were six of them, standing in a circle around Alec. They hadn’t bothered with any illusions, showing their true forms. Thick snake bodies topped with human upper halves, glowing green eyes, and arched fangs emerging from their mouths. The scent of venom became stronger as it began to drip from the bone-white tips.

A single word arose in Magnus, an icy, enraged certainty that solidified their entire being into a single directive.

_No._

Everything that came afterward was a blur.

Magnus leaped, and all they knew was the cold precision of the kill. Claws into a soft underbelly, twisting another’s head until it snapped, growling with the adrenaline and rush of it.

Their gam jing fo ngaan began to pulsate, not as strong as it had once been, but granting Magnus enough vision to see the green energy outlining the serpent goh.

Two had already run off, but the remaining two were advancing on them, better prepared now that Magnus had lost the element of surprise. Before Magnus could strike, one of them burst into flames, and Magnus took advantage of the pause to tackle the second.

Up close, Magnus could see how weak this one’s energy was, just a faint green light that barely illuminated the yiu from inside. The yiu’s body was weak, and the way it struggled against Magnus was almost pathetic. No wonder they’d come to the campsite; they were clearly starving.

“Go,” Magnus growled, standing and pushing it away. “Far away.” The yiu didn’t hesitate, slithering away, disappearing into the night.

Magnus rubbed a hand over their face, coming back to themself slowly, vision returning to normal. Alec was curled up in his roll, arms over his head to protect himself.

“Alec,” Magnus murmured, their voice still rumbling with a growl, approaching him with shuffling steps so he wouldn’t be taken by surprise. “It’s okay now, they’re gone.”

“Are you all okay?” Lydia called from where she was standing up with her hands raised in the air. She’d been the one who immolated one of the serpents. She flicked her wrists and sphere-lights appeared, illuminating the scene.

“Alec’s fine,” Magnus called back, praying it was true. Alec was coming out of his curled posture, slowly raising his head to survey the scene.

“You are okay, right?” Magnus asked, crouching down next to him and laying a hand on his shoulder. Tremors of shock were running through his body.

“What happened?” Alec asked, his pupils abnormally wide. “What were those things?”

“Serpent yiu,” Magnus said, deciding it would be better not to mention that they’d been planning on eating him. “Lydia and I stopped them.”

“Alec,” Jace said, his voice shaky. “Talk to me, buddy!” Isabelle was just standing there with her hand over her mouth, clearly overwhelmed.

“I’m here,” Alec replied weakly.

“Magnus,” Maia said, her tone authoritative and calm. “Does that offer of yours still stand?”

Magnus considered. They hadn’t planned for Lydia when they’d said it, but one more mortal shouldn’t be that much extra weight. It would be an uncomfortable ride for all of them, but after an attack like that, they doubted there’d be any complains.

“Yes,” Magnus said. “But I’ll have to come back later for the gear.”

“That’s fine,” Maia replied instantly. “There’s a cave two miles up where we can spend the rest of the night. We can re-group and figure everything out in the morning. Is everyone on board with the plan?”

There was a chorus of agreements.

“Tie your rolls around your lower half, and everyone go stand with Lydia and Maia. Give me a few minutes to get ready and then we’ll go,” Magnus said. To Alec, they added, “except for you, since I’ll be picking you up first.”

Alec nodded, face still blanched of color.

Magnus took a deep breath, preparing themself. Their focus was still razor sharp, and it didn’t take any time at all to focus on the hai coming into their body. They closed their eyes, directing it into the meridians that would grant them strength and infusing their muscles with all the extra energy they could gather on such short notice.

“Ready?” They said to Alec, standing and then offering him a hand to do the same. He took it, and Magnus wrapped an arm around his waist. “Hang on,” they said, waiting until Alec’s arms had slipped around their neck before leaping down to the lowest platform.

It was an act of pure contortion to get three of them arranged at Magnus’s front and two at Magnus’s back, but after a few minutes they managed. Once they were secure, Magnus ran, following the instructions Maia whispered in their ear.

The energy burned hot and fast as they made their way higher up the mountain, a bitter cold wind trying to push them back down. In a way, their body sang with it, the blood pumping through every vein and their heart pounding in the back of their eyes. The well ran dry too fast, though, and for the last half-mile they were barely jogging, breaths coming in great gasps.

“There,” Maia said, finally, and they saw it. A jagged curve in the side of the mountain. Magnus forced every last drop they had to reach it, setting everyone down in the front.

They each thanked Magnus as they went in, Jace clasping their shoulder, Isabelle squeezing their wrist.

“You saved my life,” Alec said with an unreadable expression, his pale face stark in Lydia’s sphere-light. Magnus just nodded, too tired to reply.

“I’ll take watch,” Maia offered, but Magnus shook their head.

“I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to,” they explained.

Once everyone had gotten inside, arranging themselves in a very tight-fitting row, Magnus took up position at the front of the cave. They didn’t begin to relax until they heard everyone drop off into sleep, but even then, they stayed there, looking out into the night. They watched until the first light of dawn began to creep through the valley below, the sun finding them in the same spot.


	8. Nippun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec apologizes; Magnus figures out why the yiugwai are targeting Alec.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someday, I'll figure out how to write chapters that aren't mostly dialogue, but I guess that day wasn't today. 🙃
> 
> Content notes: the first part of the chapter has Jace helping Alec deal with a disassociative episode.
> 
> yiugwai = all manner of "evil" creatures  
> nippun = nirvana  
> bo-ying = karma

Alec slept fitfully, in and out of consciousness. He kept tossing and turning against the cave wall, bumping Jace, but Jace didn’t complain. He just reached out a hand and laid it on Alec’s shoulder, the same way he’d done for Alec all those years ago. The contact wasn’t enough to still the restless energy, but it was enough of a tether to slow the racing of Alec’s heart just a bit.

It had started when he saw the serpent yiu, their eyes glowing in a circle above him. The feeling of helplessness, the awful sounds that came when Magnus and Lydia fought them off, the certainty that he was going to die sour as bile in his gut.

Alec was hovering just above his own body, aware of a fogginess in his mind. The signals from his body were muffled, like they were at a distance. He stared at the craggy rock in front of him, the dim light of dawn just beginning to enter the cave, and tried to find the will to come back. To stay here. But he felt clumsy, unable to grasp the details of how to make that happen. It had been so long that he’d become complacent, forgotten how to do this.

The others woke up and began to move around, talking in low voices. Alec heard his name a few times and parted his lips to answer, but nothing came out. Alec wasn’t sure how long it was until he felt Jace’s hand on his shoulder again.

“It’s just you and me now, Alec,” Jace said quietly. “Isabelle’s standing watch out front, Maia and Lydia are close by. Magnus went to get our gear.”

Jace made some noise, like he was moving around the sleeping rolls. “Okay, buddy, let’s see if we can get you sitting up.” Alec felt Jace slowly moving his body, lifting Alec by his shoulders, and he didn’t resist.

“I’m sorry.” It took Alec a second to realize the words had come out of his mouth.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Jace said.

Alec was now propped up against the cave wall. He dragged his eyes up to Jace’s face, which somehow hadn’t changed in all these years. Just like when they were boys -- lips tight around the edges, his usually mischievous eyes somber.

“Can you form some ice in your palms?” Jace asked gently.

Yes, now Alec remembered. The one time he was actually supposed to use his elemental abilities.

Alec moved his head, which felt heavy, and looked down at his hands. He reached for the energy that was always there, just under the surface -- it felt like snow melting, cold and quiet like Alec imagined the bottom of a deep lake in winter would be.

It took some time, but a pale blue light glowed in his hands, leaving behind two spheres of ice the size of plums.

“How does that feel?” Jace asked.

Alec wrapped his fingers around the ice, trying to concentrate. The fogginess was beginning to clear.

“Cold,” Alec answered, and then focused on rolling the ice around in his hands, strengthening the sensation on his skin. He raised his head again, more easily able to make eye contact. “Better, I think.”

“Nice,” Jace said, smiling with one corner of his mouth. “How about some chanting?”

Alec set down one of the pieces of ice and put a hand on his chest. He took a breath in, focusing on the feeling of his lungs expanding.

“Yeah,” he said, setting down the second piece of ice on the ground and straightening his posture. “That’d be good.”

“Awesome,” Jace said, adjusting his posture as well. “As long as you need, Alec, all right?”

Alec breathed again. He knew Jace meant it, and that there was no need to thank him, because Jace knew.

This was what they did for each other. Alec had done it for Jace, too, when he used to wake up crying from nightmares or calling for their parents. Familial bonds like theirs weren’t really acknowledged in the monastery, but there were certain elements of their brotherhood that still quietly persisted, like this. Like how Alec had known when he volunteered for this pilgrimage that Jace would be right behind him.

“You got this,” Jace said with a smile, tapping Alec’s knee with his knuckles affectionately.

Alec managed a small smile, and then nodded.

“Na moh gun sai yam pou saat,” Jace began, his voice low and rhythmic. Alec joined in after a few repetitions, clumsily at first, like his tongue was still reconnecting with his mind. _Refuge in Gunsaiyam, the great compassionate pou saat._

His voice grew stronger with time, and Alec breathed deep, taking strength in the gentle beauty of his pou saat’s grace.

* * *

Alec didn’t know what Jace told the others, but none of them asked him about this morning, which was just fine with him. The group had re-formed a little higher along the route in a clearing that gave them just enough room to stand in a circle.

“Here’s the thing,” Maia said, getting straight to the point. “We’ve been up this mountain dozens and dozens of times, and that’s _never_ happened.”

“We’ve had a few run-ins with yiugwai,” Lydia went on. “But it’s one or two, at most. That was practically a flock.”

“So this kind of thing is above our paygrade, honestly.” Maia said. Then she inhaled through her nose, frowning. “But Magnus tells us that you’re probably going to try and get to the top whether we take you or not.”

Isabelle and Jace looked at Alec. He gave a slight nod.

“That’s right,” Isabelle said. “But if you leave us with a map, I’m sure we can make the rest of the trip on our own.”

Maia barked a laugh, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

“No offense,” Lydia said, side-eyeing Maia. “I mean, Magnus, what you did was incredibly impressive --”

Alec looked at Magnus, then, wondering how they were doing. As far as Alec could see, they didn’t appear to be injured from the attack, though there was a tiredness in their posture that hadn’t been there yesterday.

“But there’s only one of them, and they can’t be everywhere at once. At the higher elevations, all it takes is one wrong step and --” Lydia made a sharp gesture and snapped her fingers loudly, the implication clear.

“Plu-us, if you all don’t come back down, we’ll be the ones coming up to find you,” Maia said, lips quirking. “So we’ll just save ourselves the time and stick around.”

Alec clasped his hands at his chest, bowing. “We owe you a great debt of gratitude.”

Maia waved a hand. “Just tell everyone you know that we’re the world’s best mountain guides and we’ll call it even.”

“Consider it done,” Jace said. “Between me and Isabelle, every village from here to the Han nation will hear about the two legends of the laketop.”

Lydia raised her eyebrows, glancing at Maia. “I like the title.”

“Plenty more where that came from,” Jace said easily, putting a hand on Lydia’s back and leaning in. “Now, you’ll need to tell me all of your best mountaineering stories, for research purposes, of course…”

“Right,” Maia said, stepping back onto the path and gesturing with a nod. “There’s another shelter that I think we can reach before dark, so let’s get moving.”

It was still early morning as they set out, the sun’s light weak in the frigid mountain air. Isabelle had bought him extra layers to wear under his robes, but today Alec felt the bite sinking in, especially in his fingers. He was prone to chills after an episode, so he was glad for the fast pace Maia set, feeling himself warming up as he tried to keep up. The further they progressed, the more the trail narrowed, until they were making their way single file.

As the hours passed, the others fell in and out of conversation. Maia and Lydia discussed the trickier ascent they’d be making tomorrow. Magnus quizzed Isabelle about various points of culture and custom, seemingly fascinated with small, mundane details Alec never would have thought to contemplate. Jace returned the favor, asking Magnus about their time.

“No infusing, lightscrolls, or aims?” Jace said, voice incredulous. “None of it? How did people get by?”

“Laboriously,” Magnus said sardonically. “But somehow we managed.”

“How long ago was it, exactly?” Jace asked.

“Jace!” Isabelle hissed, and there was a scuffling sound that was most likely Isabelle kicking Jace in the calf.

“Ow! Sorry, I didn’t realize it was a sore subject.”

It was a moment before Magnus spoke again.

“It’s all right,” they said, voice carefully neutral. “Gunyam and the Sage trapped me under there for five hundred and thirty years ago, give or take a few.”

Alec started, almost missing his next step. He hadn’t taken the time to wonder about the details of what caused the tension between Magnus and the pou saat. Alec couldn’t even wrap his mind around it, what that must have been like, and Magnus had lived it.

“Oh, Magnus,” Isabelle said, echoing Alec’s thoughts. “I can’t imagine.”

“That’s rough, friend,” Jace said.

“What’s done is done,” Magnus said, though their tone had a flavor closer to resignation than acceptance. “But, luckily, I have some kind tutors who are here to help me learn my way around this new world I find myself in.”

“Don’t you worry,” Isabelle said warmly. “We’re your official welcoming committee.”

Alec smiled, glad Isabelle was with them. She had a way of finding the right words, which was usually so hard for Alec.

“Not to mention, we owe you our lives,” Jace said. “Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t stopped them? They could have gotten us all in our sleep.”

“Which leads me to wonder,” Magnus said in a tone that was a hair too casual to be natural. “Perhaps this would be a pilgrimage better undertaken by some practitioners with more… experience?”

“Actually…” Isabelle paused, the way she sometimes did when she was psychically conferring with Jace. “Jace and I were wondering if you could train us.”

“Train you?” Magnus said, clearly taken off guard at the idea.

“I mean, I was practically useless last night,” Isabelle said, punctuating her sentence with a puff of air. “I completely froze. I didn’t even think about shifting into my wolf form.”

“I wasn’t much better,” Jace grumbled.

“And we already told you about how we couldn’t get you away from those trappers,” she continued. “And _we_ started that fight.”

Alec, invested in the outcome at this point, risked a quick glance over his shoulder. He saw that Magnus was looking at the two of them with a conflicted expression on their face.

Alec looked back at the road ahead of him, biting his lip. He wasn’t sure how he felt about any of this, but after last night, it was hard to deny that they all needed to be better prepared.

Jace had been right, he realized. They could have all died in their sleep. Alec hadn’t truly considered the possibility of Isabelle or Jace getting hurt on this journey, and he found himself hoping that Magnus agreed.

“Oh, put away those puppy dog eyes, you two,” Magnus said, their laugh somewhere between amused and annoyed. “We can begin when we get off this toidoi mountain.”

* * *

“Magnus.” Alec had dropped back as they approached the shelter, wanting to talk with them. The shelter they were approaching wasn’t quite a cave, more like a large overhang in the rock, but it would allow them to sleep as a group and reduce their exposure. Maia and Lydia started surveying the surroundings and pulling out the gear for the night.

Magnus turned looked at Alec, scratching behind their left ear. “How can I help you?”

“No, I --” Alec drummed a finger on his thigh. “I just --”

Alec wasn’t used to not being able to fall back on formalities, but he’d decided he was going to get the hang of this, and he supposed the only way out was through. Even if going through meant babbling nonsensically, apparently.

He tried a different tact. “Do you remember how I acted, after the pou saat appeared?”

“Like you regretted ever meeting me?” Magnus smiled tightly, in a way that didn’t reach their eyes. Their voice lost some of its usual melodious inflection. “I do.”

“Right.” Alec hadn’t thought of it that way, but looking back, that was exactly what he’d done. He’d been such a ngong geui lou. “That wasn’t fair of me.”

Magnus’s face shifted into a cool curiosity, and they circled two fingers in the air in front of them. “Go on.”

“I just, um, realized. Earlier today.” Alec scraped the sole of his shoe in the dirt, looking down and wishing he had Isabelle’s way with words right now. “How even though this was forced on you, you’ve been kind to us every step of the way. And I made these assumptions, and they were just -- really wrong.”

Alec looked back up, still unable to read the expression on Magnus’s face. Alec took a step closer. He clasped his hands in front of himself, the tops of his fingers crisscrossing, trying to find some way to get across what he meant. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry. And I’m really glad you’re here with us.”

Magnus’s eyes widened, their carefully contained expression cracking. They glanced away briefly, breathing in.

“Well, young novice,” Magnus said, looking back, eyes softer. “You have me at a rare loss for words.”

Alec smiled, shrugging. Strange how the shift in Magnus left him feeling like he’d accomplished something special.

Magnus took a step closing, looking up at Alec. The sunset deepened the color of their eyes, giving them a hypnotic quality. “You’re forgiven.”

Alec just stood there, unable to look away, no thoughts or words cohering.

“Shall we retire for the evening?” Magnus said, taking a step back and gesturing towards their camp for the night.

“Right, uh, yeah, let’s.” Alec brushed his hands down his sides, coming out of his reverie. “Do that,” he finished awkwardly. They walked towards the camp, side by side.

* * *

Over the next two days, the elevation began to kick in. Conversation dwindled as the thin air made it harder to speak.

Maia and Lydia reviewed various pressure points that could help with the symptoms, including the one that Magnus had taught Alec on the first day. They also gave everyone a few different herbs that could be chewed, and dissolved some tablets in the water that gave the liquid a mineral aftertaste.

The trail became increasingly more difficult, full of slippery pebbles and entire portions that had lost all definition due to harsh weather. Once, Magnus caught Alec by the back of his robes when he lost his footing and started swaying towards the long drop below.

Bitter winds blew in from the East, and Alec had to press his chapped lips together to stop them from cracking further. Lydia was able to create heat shields for them for short periods, but she tried to use her energy sparingly in case the weather took a turn for the worse.

It was on the fifth morning of their trip that it happened again, eerily similar to the first time.

Alec woke up to find Magnus fighting with a group of thick-bodied creatures. They were dark gray from the neck down, their grotesque faces bright red. It was almost dawn, giving the whole scene an almost dream-like quality, a violent dance against a blooming sky.

It was over quickly, the last one screaming as they fell down the mountainside.

* * *

Alec went to Jace immediately afterwards, while the others were breaking camp and asking Magnus about what had happened.

Alec had been diligently meditating on the images of the first attack until he was able to achieve as much equanimity as possible while reviewing them. It had also helped him to review the images and notice how they were different from his original memories, the ones that still haunted his dreams. Disconnecting the attack from the past as much as possible helped ground him.

The episodes had been debilitating when he was younger, and he knew he’d be putting the rest of the group at risk if he went into that kind of state up here. It wasn’t completely within his power to stop it from happening, but he was determined to do everything he could.

“I’m good, just a few minutes of chanting,” Alec explained, and Jace immediately got into posture. Alec still had a slight buzzing sensation at the edges of his awareness when they were finished, but it felt manageable.

They joined the group, who were standing on the trail overlooking where the creatures had fallen.

“This is becoming a pattern,” Maia said, her hands on her hips. “I don’t like it.”

“What were they this time?” Lydia asked. Her long hair, usually tied in a neat ponytail, was hanging in tangles around her face.

“Some type of goh, from what I could tell.” Magnus said.

“So we’re getting the whole variety pack of yiugwai,” Maia said. “Great.”

“There’s something else.” Magnus leaned their head forward, looking at Alec across the people standing between them. “They were specifically after you.”

“What?” Jace said, his face going stormy. “Both groups were trying to get Alec?”

“I’m afraid so,” Magnus said.

“That’s strange behavior for yiugwai,” Lydia said, frowning. “We should all be ripe pickings for them.”

Alec frowned. “So… why, then?” He wasn’t upset, exactly, because he’d prefer that they come after him than anyone else. It just didn’t make sense. “Why me?”

They all went silent, exchanging glances.

“I… may have a hunch,” Magnus said. “Let’s go back to the shelter where we can sit, and I can explain.”

They walked back down the trail, and Magnus gestured for Alec to sit across from them.

“To know if I’m right, I’ll need to examine you with my gam jing fo ngaan to see your energy signature.”

“Your what now?” Jace asked.

Magnus tapped the center of their forehead. “I’m able to see through certain layers of reality. Still a bit rusty, but I know what I’m looking for.”

“Is it dangerous?” Isabelle asked, concerned.

“No, nothing like that.” Magnus shook their head. “It may tickle a bit, but I’ve never had any complaints.”

Isabelle raised an eyebrow, an amused light in her eyes. “Interesting.”

“Exactly how many more tricks do you have up your sleeves?” Maia said, leaning over and giving Magnus a friendly nudge with her shoulder.

Magnus chuckled, winking at her. “They’re long sleeves, kumquat.”

“Right, well --” Alec felt like the group would go on all morning if he didn’t get them on track. “If it’ll help, let’s do it. What do I… do?”

“You just relax,” Magnus said, looking back at Alec with a steady gaze. Alec nodded, rubbing his thumb and index finger together in his lap. “I’ll just need a moment to prepare.”

Magnus seated themself in lotus position. They closed their eyes, simply breathing for a moment. They slowly raised their hands in the air, moving them in a swirling, intricate pattern, picking up speed with each circuit.

Their eyes began to glow from within, and a matching golden light emerged from the center of their forehead, curls and tendrils licking outward like translucent fire.

And then Magnus turned their focus onto Alec, and Alec’s entire world shifted.

Magnus’s gaze had a physical presence, landing on his feet like a caress. The energy traveled up Alec’s skin like sweet prickles of electricity, like the bubbles of a sparkling drink bursting on his tongue.

Alec gasped, feeling it all the way through him -- beyond skin, beyond muscle, down into his bones.

It was the most intimate sensation he’d ever experienced, and he was torn between a desperate urge to run and never wanting it to end.

“Oh, my,” Magnus said, eyes going wide with surprise.

“What?” Alec said breathily, anything to escape this visceral intensity.

“I see the problem.” Magnus’s eyes faded.

The sensations also faded, bless the Sage in her infinite wisdom. Alec collapsed forward, putting a hand on his chest and trying to catch his breath.

“So is Alec all right?” Isabelle asked.

“More than all right, in fact. You see,” Magnus used a hand to gesture to Jace, Isabelle, Alec, and themself. “All four of us received blessings from the pou saat.”

Magnus returned their gaze to Alec. “The blessing that you received, Alec, just happens to make you especially… appealing, to yiugwai.”

Alec swallowed, still not quite caught up with the conversation.

“Appealing how?” Lydia said. “I thought yiugwai were opportunity feeders.”

“It’s hard to explain, but he’s… radiant.” Magnus said, still looking at Alec, and tapping an index finger on their lips. “The infusion of divine energy has combined with Alec’s own unique signature, resulting in something… virtually irresistible.”

“So he’s what, like an extra tasty looking target?” Jace said, frowning ferociously.

“Yes,” Magnus said. “And quite literally, too. An energy like that can only be acquired by consuming the flesh.”

“They want to _eat_ him?” Jace said loudly, surging to a standing position and going to pace on the trail. “Nope. No. That’s not -- no.”

“Eyeshit,” Maia said.

“Sweet Sage,” Isabelle whispered, raising a hand to the base of her neck.

“It’s more than hunger, though.” Magnus said. “This type of energy would significantly advance the cultivation of any yiugwai that wanted a shot at a mortal or immortal life.”

The general wisdom was that yiugwai, unlike mortals, didn’t go through the rebirth cycle, which meant that they didn’t have the opportunity to attain nippun. Some yiugwai practiced enough cultivation to reach it on their own, but the process was long, laborious, and not many of them succeeded.

“Like a… bo-ying shortcut?” Lydia asked.

“More or less.” Magnus said.

Alec squared his shoulders, running his tongue between his teeth and his inner cheek. The others watched him with varying expressions -- fearful, worried, maybe like they were waiting for him to fall apart.

“They’d consume my soul, wouldn’t they?” Alec asked Magnus, his voice perfectly level.

Magnus pressed their lips together, nodding.

Alec didn’t fear natural death the way laypeople did, because he _knew_ he would be reborn. He knew it the way he knew the sun would rise in the morning. Rebirth meant that he always had another chance to walk the path and attain nippun. Ever since he could remember, he’d held nippun in his heart. From his mother telling him about it with an indescribable wonder in her eyes, to the elders who had guided him along the eightfold path, it was one of the foundational pillars of Alec’s life. Alec felt that it wasn’t a matter of if, just when.

But if his soul was consumed, there would be no more path. No more chances. His soul would be completely and totally gone, erased from all layers of existence.

“I see,” Alec said. He stood, brushing the dirt off his robe, and went to stand beside Jace.

“Alec --” Isabelle started to say, since she and Jace surely understood the significance, but Alec held a hand up.

“You said we could reach the summit today?” Alec asked Maia.

She looked out at the clear day. “It’s looking good, yeah.”

“Right,” Jace said, putting a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Let’s hit that summit.”

It took a few minutes, but the group got moving, and Jace tried to get them talking about the rumors they'd heard about the san sin who lived at the top of this mountain. Alec just focused all his energy on walking, looking ahead, and not thinking.


	9. Attached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet the san sin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Gongfu cha video.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFWfJpgM8GU)
> 
> I should just call this fic “~eMotiOns~ with a small side of things happening.” Then again… that’s all my fic, haha.
> 
> Content notes: see notes at the end of the chapter.

Maia had timed the trip well; they approached the summit with hours of daylight to spare.

On the trail, the day was clear, and the land stretched as far as they could see in every direction. They were on the opposite side of the laketop where they’d begun their journey, but Alec could see another settlement in the distance. It was a cluster of lakes dotted with long, curved buildings. There was farmland on the outer edges cut through with canals and what looked like irrigation ditches. The water buffalo lumbered slowly through the canals, their riders swaying back and forth rhythmically.

There was a dividing line between where the trail ended and the summit began: a wall of dense mist that surrounded the mountaintop in a thick, swirling crown. As they got closer, Alec found himself drawn to look at the eddying, shifting curlicues, and a silence descended on the group, as if the fog was pulling them into its noiseless shroud.

Maia silently passed the rope back, which she’d advised them would be necessary to pass through the fog since there would be no visibility. She was at the front, and would be guiding them by touch and experience. They’d practiced the painstaking step-by-step pace in the morning, where she would take one step forward and wait for it to ripple back through the line before taking her next step. Maia and Lydia went into the fog easily, and Alec was behind them.

He stood at the brink of it, holding his breath and feeling a hush settle through him, quieting his turbulent spirit. He felt the tug that meant it was time for the next step, and crossed through.

It was neither cold nor warm, miniscule drops of dew sprinkling every inch of his skin. The engulfing blankness gave him a sensation of weightlessness and there was a strange comfort in it, like he was being held. He tasted ozone and rain on his tongue when he breathed in.

He gripped his fingers tighter around the rope, focusing his attention on the rough sensation of it in his palm. It would be all too easy to simply walk off the side of the mountain if his attention wandered.

“Coming out,” Maia’s voice drifted back after about ten minutes, and after five more steps, Alec could see the ground again. They were standing on flat ground, the fog in a dome shape around them. Once everyone was through, they untied the ropes and Lydia pulled out some blankets, folding them up into makeshift seat cushions.

“How do these flowers bloom up here?” Alec whispered, crouching down to look at the ground. No rock or soil was visible, blanketed in thick, springy groundover which was sprinkled with tiny flowers, their pigment vibrant even in the mist. Alec reached out, brushing his fingers along the velvet-soft underside of the one of the flowers.

“We usually tell our clients that there’s special elemental energy up here,” Lydia said, also whispering. “But we actually have no idea.”

“Should we start?” Isabelle said quietly, sitting down on one of the blankets with a grateful smile for Lydia.

Alec nodded, going over to join her.

Maia and Lydia had explained some of her clients came up here to meditate, others to wave lightscenes to show their friends, and a few who were seeking the san sin like they were. Unfortunately, no one had ever succeeded in contacting the san sin, so they didn’t have any advice for the group about what to do once they were up here.

The pou saat had directed them to this mountain, but given no specifics beyond that, so they’d conferred and decided they would spend the first hour waiting. Jace, Alec, and Isabelle would pray to the pou saat for guidance, and Magnus, Lydia, and Maia would stand watch.

The first hour went by in silence, broken only by the occasional muffled movement. The three of them conferred quietly; none had received any guidance, so they moved on to their next idea.

Over the rest of the afternoon, they tried things that Maia and Lydia’s clients had done, or things they’d heard about in stories: offering sacrificial personal items and prostrating eighty-eight times; a seven elements ritual which they recited awkwardly from Alec’s notes, their complete inexperience very blatant; and finally, eighty-eight minutes of a ceremonial chant. Each time they waited, looking into the mist, but no one emerged.

Maia approached them, taking in the tired and frustrated expressions on Jace’s and Isabelle’s faces. Alec was trying to think back to every story he’d ever read, but couldn’t think of anything new.

“Let’s set up camp,” she said. “We can try again in the morning.”

“No luck?” Magnus said, coming to stand beside Maia. Lydia continued to go through her qigong routine about ten paces away, movements fluid and relaxed.

Isabelle shook her head. “And we’re running out of ideas.”

“If the pou saat isn’t sending us guidance, that means we should be able to figure this out on our own,” Alec said, unable to stop the slight undertone of irritation that crept into his words. He couldn’t help feeling he was letting the others down.

“Have you tried the immortal language?” Magnus asked, running the knuckle of their index finger along the bottom of their chin.

“That sounds promising,” Maia said.

“You speak it?” Alec said. Alec had seen the language, a script made of strange, spiraling characters, where each word was connected to the next. As far as he knew only scholars and academics knew how to read it.

Magnus’s smile was indulgent. “Well, I am an immortal. It’s part of the package.”

“Kind of wishing we had started with this,” Jace said, uncrossing his legs and standing up. He loosened his limbs, stretching.

“I make no promises,” Magnus said, waving a hand at their surroundings. “I’ve never done this sort of ritual.”

“It can’t hurt to try,” Isabelle said. She and Alec stood up. Isabelle walked over to Jace, grabbing a spot on his shoulder with her hand and squeezing. Jace sighed and relaxed into it.

“What shall I say?” Magnus asked Alec.

Alec reviewed the possibilities, but none of them felt right. They’d gotten exactly nowhere with all of it, so he was inclined to trust Magnus’s instincts. “As you said, you’re the immortal. What would you say?”

“I could start with a greeting,” Magnus said, thinking out loud. “And go from there.”

“Good,” Alec said. “Let’s give it a shot.”

Magnus went to stand in front of the wall of mist, clasping their hands at the wrists behind their back. Everyone else came to stand in a semi-circle behind them, and something in the air changed: the quiet was like the infinitesimal pause between the inhale and the exhale, the moment when possibilities were held inside, waiting to be released.

When Magnus spoke, their voice was completely transformed.

The mist had been swallowing their words all day, as if sound refused to travel further than the space right in front of their mouths. But Magnus’s voice was deep and resounding, rising and falling like fingers dancing across the strings of a peipa. Like the script, there didn’t seem to be any separation between the words, as if they were all inseparably intertwined.

When they finished speaking, the sound rippled outward from their form, creating visible wave-forms that danced through the mist, leaving sparkling light in their wake.

And then, in front of Magnus, a figure emerged.

They wore a pale purple robe that was gently swirling around their feet, the long sleeves trailing down their sides. They had brown skin, black hair cut close the scalp, and a youthful appearance that was belied by the depth of their eyes.

They broke into a smile, spreading their arms in front of them.

“Magnus, you old cat,” they said. “If I had known it was you, I would’ve come out ages ago.”

“Ambrose!” Magnus exclaimed, walking into their arms and embracing them. Then Magnus leaned back, studying Ambrose’s face. “Goodness, darling, you haven’t aged a bit. Just as fresh as the day I met you.”

“I’ve ripened a bit,” Ambrose said with a wink. Then they looked over Magnus’s shoulder at the group. “The mortals are with you?”

“Yes, yes, come meet them.” Magnus escorted Ambrose over with a light hand their elbow, making introductions. Ambrose offered no surname, and said that he preferred to go by “he.”

When they got to Alec, he bowed. “Venerable san sin --”

“Oh, none of that,” Ambrose said, waving a hand. “I hate that title. Just Ambrose, or Rose if we’re getting…” Ambrose leaned in a bit, voice lowering. “Extra friendly.”

“Behave,” Magnus said under their breath.

“Come on, this is the most fun I’ve had in ages,” Ambrose said, laughing easily. Magnus gave him a quelling look. Ambrose answered with a faux pout that almost instantly dissolved into another smile. “Very well, very well.”

Alec frowned, not entirely following the subtleties in their exchange but sensing he didn’t like it. Ambrose was definitely not the kind of san sin Alec had been expecting.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Ambrose said mildly to Alec. And then he addressed the group, gesturing with his arm towards the mist. “Now, come! You’ll be my guests for the night, of course, and you’ll have to tell me all about your harrowing mountain adventure over tea.”

Ambrose strode off, Magnus by his side, and with a flick of his wrist the mist began to part into a path. The rest of them exchanged glances, and arrived at something like a collective shrug, grabbing the packs and following the two immortals.

* * *

Ambrose’s home was obsidian black on the outside, and was similar in appearance to an enormous snail’s shell: the entrance was large enough for all of them to enter walking side-by-side, and the rest of the structure spiraled inwards, growing smaller and smaller towards the centerpoint. Inside, the walls were completely different -- a shimmering pale blue material that had occasional swirling splashes of warm violet.

When Alec looked at one of the swirls for too long, it began to rotate and dissolve, making him feel light-headed and off-balance.

They sat at a round table. The white surface had a sheen, colors reflecting as the light bounced off. It reminded Alec of the inside of a seashell he’d seen once, the way it changed depending on the angle he held it at. Ambrose chatted rapid-fire with Magnus while he brought out an exquisite purple jade tea set, inviting them all to sit.

Ambrose went quiet when he began the gongfu cha ceremony, and everyone watched him, mesmerized the fluidity and grace of his motions. The bamboo tongs were like an extension of his fingers, which were spread out in a perfect fan shape, and rather than getting in the way, his long sleeves added to the energy of his movements. The steam of the water danced in wisps as he worked, waking up the teaware and rinsing the leaves. An unearthly fragrance filled the room, sweet like orange blossoms but laced with a strong vibration, like the scent of rolling thunder.

They tapped their fingers in thanks on the table as he served them. They waited until everyone had their tea, and then picked up the cups with two hands.

“To friends,” Ambrose said, his face open and amiable, looking at each one of them. “Old and new.”

Alec shuddered as the first sip made its way down his throat, unprepared for the indescribable and overwhelming flavor. It sent a jolt through his entire system, like a wind blowing through and clearing lingering cobwebs, body surging like it had just woken up.

“Now that’s energizing,” Jace said, slowly blinking his wide eyes. Alec noticed he could see the hazel and dark brown colors of Jace’s non-identical eyes with stunning clarity. Isabelle was giggling quietly into the cup, and Lydia was grinning at Maia for no apparent reason.

“My own harvest, from the garden,” Ambrose said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Always a crowd-pleaser.”

“No refills for them, darling,” Magnus said, glancing around the table. Alec was in full agreement; he could barely conceptualize finishing this cup, much less starting another.

“Magnus,” Ambrose said, leaning over and placing a hand over one of Magnus’s wrists. “You must tell me everything. How did you escape the morality brigade, after all this time?”

Magnus’s mouth twisted wryly. “I didn’t. Gunyam themself freed me.”

Ambrose’s eyebrows shot up. “ _Really_? Now there’s a turn I didn’t expect.”

“It’s actually the reason we’re here,” Magnus said. “I was… strongly encouraged to accompany this pilgrimage. The mortals are trying to find the Western Reach and Gunyam told them that you might be able to direct them to the entrance.”

Ambrose squinted, mouth thinning out into an uncomfortable line. “Oh, Magnus, I don’t recommend it. It’s nothing like the last time we were there.”

Alec turned his head entirely to look at Magnus, processing that information with narrowed eyes. Magnus had been to the Western Reach? Why hadn’t they mentioned it before now?

“It’s gotten worse?” Magnus said, voice somber. They way he and Ambrose were looking at each other, lost in their shared past, the rest of them might as well have been decorations on the table.

Alec gulped the tea, unsure what else to do with himself. His brain began to fizzle pleasantly.

“It’s… different. My last visit was around,” Ambrose looked up at the ceiling, mentally calculating. “Two centuries ago, but even back then, it was starting. The inhabitants are still a motley assortment of the dangerous and the weird, naturally, but it’s like the land itself has changed.”

Ambrose shook his head, putting a hand on his cheek. “I’m not sure quite how to describe it, but it’s like it… seeps into you. Quite unsettling, to say the least.”

“Are you sure I can’t get a refill?” Jace suddenly blurted far too loudly, and then barked a laugh, slapping his hand over his mouth to quiet himself.

“That is…” Maia made a wavy gesture with her hand, leaning too far forward on the table to be strictly sitting. “Po-otent stuff.”

“They’re a fun bunch, aren’t they?” Ambrose said, wisely ignoring Jace’s request.

“I must admit,” Magnus hummed slightly, a small smile playing on their lips. “They are growing on me.”

Alec felt a warmth creep up his neck when Magnus said that, and brought his hand up to try and rub it away. It only seemed to spread it, making his cheeks burn.

“Be that as it may, though,” Magnus went on. “They’re determined to make it there, and I’m sure sooner or later they’ll find someone who’ll help them do it.”

“All right, then,” Ambrose said, taking in Magnus’s more serious demeanor. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you, old cat. I’ll send out a few messages tonight, shake the bushes and see what comes out. We’ll debrief these little lushes in the morning.”

“I appreciate it, old friend.” Magnus turned over the hand they had on the tabletop, positioning it to hold Ambrose’s. They smiled at Ambrose so easily, with such a comfortable familiarity that Alec almost felt like he was intruding just witnessing it, a strange sensation churning in his stomach.

He looked down, drank the last of the tea, and stood up.

“Thank you for your hospitality, vener -- uh, Ambrose,” he said, surprised at the sound of his own voice. “I -- I just need to step out for a moment to get some air.”

He walked out before anyone could say anything, sighing with relief when the cool mist hit his face. He went to the side of the house, leaning his body back against the obsidian wall and covering his face with his hands.

A few minutes later, he heard a soft voice. “Alec?”

“I’m fine, Isabelle,” Alec said into his fingers. She must have won the coin toss with Jace.

She stepped closer, putting an arm around his lower back and leaning her head on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to be,” she said simply.

The words were so unassuming that they slipped right past his normal barriers, lodging somewhere deep in his chest. He exhaled, a rough, harsh sound, and his eyes burned with unshed tears.

“I’m not --” Alec shook his head, dropping his hands. “I’m not myself, Isabelle. I don’t -- I’m not like this.”

“I know, Alec.” She said. “It’s okay.”

Two of their tears tracked down his cheeks, and he wiped them away roughly.

“But here’s the thing,” Isabelle continued. “You got attacked twice. You just found out that yiugwai want to _eat_ you. Plus, this is the first time you’ve left the monastery since you were six years old. And there’s, you know…” She moved her head a little, blinking up at him. “Magnus.”

Alec frowned. “What about them?”

“Nothing,” Isabelle said quickly. “The point is, with all that, of course you’re not yourself.”

Alec rubbed a hand over his face, pinpricks dancing under his skin.

“Yeah, I guess.” He sighed. “I’ve just always had this idea, you know? That if I ever served this way, I’d be a model novice. Equanimity in the face of everything. Single-pointed concentration. Deepening my insight.”

He leaned back, his head making a _thud_ when it came in contact with the wall. The realization of how far he was from his ideal was bitterly humbling, emptying his lungs of air. He was a literal mess of emotions, lately, and so many of them he couldn’t even identify, much less release.

“Look, Alec.” Isabelle let him go, moving to stand in front of him. He brought his eyes back down to look at her. “You were a model novice, back home. Where everything was the same every single day. But, think about it, even the Sage didn’t attain nippun until she found the poutai tree to meditate under.”

“So, what?” Alec said, disheartened. “Unless I can find a quiet tree, I should just give up?”

Isabelle slapped his shoulder lightly with the back of her hand. “No, you big soh jyu. Just give it some time. It’s going to be different than at home, but you’ll find your way.” She looked at him with a quiet certainty that he wasn’t sure he deserved. “I know you will.”

Alec bit the inside of his lip, taking in her steady gaze, and he felt just a bit less like a complete disaster.

He was grateful to Magnus, then, because what came next didn’t feel so difficult.

“Thanks, Isabelle,” he said, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder briefly.

“Anytime.” She came to stand next to him, matching his posture of leaning against the wall. They stayed like that for awhile, the mist swirling around their feet.

* * *

“I never thought I’d see the day when you did Gunyam’s bidding, old cat,” Ambrose said as they sat at the table, watching the group. Alec was taking a bag of dried rice away from Jace, who protested that he was enjoying crunching the grains between his teeth.

“You and me both,” Magnus said, shaking their head. The first years under the mountain, they’d dreamed up hundreds of different scenarios of what their freedom might look like. None had even come close to this, they realized, surveying the scene.

Jace had relinquished his bid on the bag of rice, and instead had started to braid Isabelle’s hair, weaving the strands with surprising skill. Lydia was tracing the swirls on Ambrose’s walls with great concentration, and Maia was trying to convince Alec to play some sort of dexterity game with her. He looked so baffled and mildly offended at the proposition that Magnus couldn’t help but smile.

“Just say the word,” Ambrose said casually, as he peeled the skin off of another green grape. He was pulling it off in a perfectly spiral strip, and had a bowl of the ones he’d finished, the translucent ovals nestled in a neat arrangement. “And we’ll bring the battle to Gunyam.”

Though he said the words lightly, Magnus knew their weight, that Ambrose wouldn't hesitate to stand by their side. Together, they could force the matter of Magnus’s freedom, scorching the earth and the skies in the attempt.

But Magnus had already been down a similar road, and it wouldn’t solve the more pressing issue. At every turn, when they should have been discouraged, the mortals became even more determined. Magnus couldn’t care less about the scrolls or Gunyam’s wishes, but they couldn’t deny the sinking realization that with each passing day, they had less of a desire to escape. They had to find some way to dissuade the group; they just hoped they’d manage before the group arrived at the entrance.

“That time may yet come,” Magnus said, because even if they did find the scrolls, they doubted that would be the end of their troubles with the deity. “But I’ll continue down this road a little longer.”

“Good enough,” Ambrose said, not one to push such matters.

“Come play with me!” Maia called out, looking at Ambrose and grabbing at the air like she could pull him towards her.

Apparently she’d given up on convincing Alec, who was now giving an oddly impassioned lecture to Jace and Isabelle, gesturing broadly in the air as he discussed some incredibly esoteric point of doctrine. Despite the highly academic topic matter, Jace and Isabelle were riveted, strands of Isabelle’s hair laying forgotten in Jace’s hand.

Ambrose looked up from his grapes, one eyebrow creeping up his forehead.

“Behave,” Magnus told him again, and Ambrose grinned, going to join Maia.

Maia’s game involved a series of convoluted motions -- interlacing fingers, tapping knuckles, and then sudden slapping which startled everyone else. Ambrose graciously let her win most of the rounds, laughing delightedly every time she did a victory dance.

Alec’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright with spiritual zeal, and he seemed lighter somehow, like a weight had been lifted off him. Isabelle was toying with a small red stone that she wore around her neck; she’d confided in Magnus that Clary had given it to her right before she’d left. Jace had finally finished her hair, an intricate design where three smaller braids were pulled together into one large one along both sides of her head. He was tying off the ends with careful attention, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth.

Magnus felt a strange melancholy watching them, wishing they could place a protective bubble around this moment, preserve the artless innocence of it.

When the hour got late, they arranged their rolls in a circle on the floor, and Ambrose headed off towards the inner part of his home’s spiral.

“Coming?” Ambrose said to Magnus, eyes all invitation.

Magnus smiled. “Perhaps another time.”

Ambrose watched Magnus for a moment, not hurt -- their affairs had always been secondary to their friendship, though he did seem curious. His eyes scanned the room speculatively and then came to rest on Alec, who was awkwardly squeezing his long limbs into the roll designed for a shorter person.

“Yes,” Ambrose murmured, starting to grin. “I see.”

“We’re not --” Magnus started, already seeing the conclusions forming in Ambrose’s gaze. He’d always had an unerring sense of Magnus’s vulnerable spots.

“Of course, of course,” Ambrose said with a wink, not at all convinced, giving Magnus a little wave before walking off to his room.

Magnus looked at Alec, who had finally gotten himself comfortable. They’d become a bit attached to the novice, it was true. Anyone with eyes could see that he was beautiful, and it was nicely tempered by his unassuming humility. It was endearing how easy it was to ruffle his feathers, admirable how he worked to atone when his behavior didn’t meet his standards.

But he was deeply dedicated to the eightfold path. Magnus was intimately familiar with how rigid that road was, and Alec clearly didn’t see any room for ambiguity in the practices. That didn’t leave space or possibility for someone like Magnus.

Magnus sighed, looking away. Best not to entertain pointless threads of thought, they decided, standing up to practice their forms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes: The tea that Ambrose gives them puts them in an altered state.
> 
> This chapter is a crossover with The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, featuring Ambrose. Check him out, he's great: [Ambrose Spellman video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ucOs8H9NZzQ). Magnus and Ambrose are my new pansexual warlock BFF OTP. ♥♥♥


	10. Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They leave the mountain and travel to the capital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hei = qi, life force, essential energy  
> dao = the unknowable All  
> Gam Seui = Sweet Water

_The earth is flat, but covered in rolling hills of ice. The hills are encasing giant lotus flowers, their leaves and flowers fully unfurled and perfectly preserved, frozen at their peak of vitality. The moment of their fullest expression, development arrested just before the fading begins._

_Alec is standing on the top of one of the hills, counting the flowers. One, two, three…_

_He keeps losing track of his fingers, and tries to melt the ice so he can harvest the flowers. He needs to collect them, bring them back home, but he’s never been very good with his abilities._

_In the distance, one of the hills disintegrates, the water flowing out and turning the hills into islands. Alec makes his way over there, slipping barefoot down the bitterly cold slope and wading through the shallow sea. The lotus had tipped over once it was freed, the tips of the pink petals brushing the ground._

_It begins to rise again as he approaches, revealing the Sage._

_She’s wearing a robe that changes color each time Alec blinks, but only subtly, so that she’s like a small, contained sunset. Her hue is deepening with the coming night. Even from this distance, Alec can feel her: she sees him, in his entirety._

_He willingly gives her every particle of his being, dredging out every dark corner and searching behind every closed door, laying it all bare for her judgment._

_“I will not,” she says, with terrifyingly unshakeable love._

_“Please,” Alec says, not sure if he’s hoping for her acceptance or her censure, not sure which he fears or desires more._

_“All rightness can be a trap,” she says, and then blinks, revealing golden cat eyes. “All wrongs can reveal the path.”_

_“Will I find you?” Alec asks, burning to kneel at their feet._

_“I was never separate from you,” Magnus answers. Their gam jing fo ngaan burns with divine fire, lighting them from within. They become clear as the ice, the diamond shine blooming from within._

_“I’ll help you,” Alec says helplessly, reaching out to try to keep them from dissolving into ether._

_“Let me,” Magnus says, pulling Alec down so their foreheads are touching. Magnus’s heartbeat travels down Alec’s spine, making the bones sing with blood._

_And then Magnus kisses his eyelids, just a whisper of a spirit caress, and then they’re gone, returned to the void._

Alec woke up gasping in the dark, the center of his forehead pulsing and his hand reaching out, poised in mid-air. It took him a long time to realize the dream was over, and he brought his hands to his chest, curling in on himself. He trembled for a long time. He was suffused with a lingering sense of love, crystalline in its undiluted purity, that shook him to his core.

* * *

“You better come and see me again before the century’s up,” Ambrose told Magnus, squeezing their hands in his.

This parting was tinged with much more melancholy than their last one had been, back when they’d been brazen and believed themselves invincible. Magnus had the sense that they weren’t the only one who had paid dearly for their newfound wisdom.

“I seem to recall that you still owe me a trip to a certain gemstone-encrusted cavern,” Magnus said, reaching out to flick Ambrose’s earlobe with the tip of their tail. They’d been relieved when the memory had surfaced. They were coming more readily; it felt less like pulling stones from muck, now, as if the rains had returned and the creek bed was being washed clean.

“It would be my pleasure, you covetous feline,” Ambrose grinned, pulling Magnus in for a hug. Magnus embraced him tightly, breathing in his familiar scent, grateful that not everything from his former life had been lost to time.

The others had already said their goodbyes and were waiting for Magnus a little ways off.

“That one’ll keep you on your toes,” Ambrose said as Magnus began to walk away, nodding towards where Alec was standing. Magnus shook their head with a smile, waving one last time before they fell into step behind the others.

* * *

They made their way down the mountain at record speed. Going down was always easier, of course, but Ambrose’s restorative tea had left the group energized and full of stamina. They woke without aches and pains, ate more lightly, and there was a noticeable bounce in their steps. Magnus enjoyed it, not just because everyone was in higher spirits, but also because they didn’t have to slow themselves down as much to match the pace of the mortals. It wasn’t that Magnus didn’t enjoy a leisurely pace every now and then, but it had been frustrating at times to be constantly reserving their true strength.

“How much longer until this wears off?” Jace asked, walking jauntily and twirling a thin stick in his fingers.

“Another day or two, most likely,” Magnus said. The sun was at their back, they’d found a lovely flower to tuck in their behind their ear this morning, and they hadn’t had to worry about any attacks last night, thanks to Ambrose. _No more nasties will be bothering you on my mountain_ , he’d said, a red glow flaring briefly in the irises of his eyes. All in all, it was a good morning, and they were in a magnanimous mood.

“We should have asked him for a bottle of that stuff,” Jace said, sighing. “A guy could get used to this.”

“Unfortunately, the effects wouldn’t be the same once we left the summit.” Magnus said. “But when we begin our training, I can show you some hei-harnessing techniques that have similar benefits.”

“Are you talking about,” Isabelle said, and then lowered her voice conspiratorially for the next words, “mystical daoist stuff?”

Magnus chuckled. “Precisely. That ‘stuff,’ as you call it, is one of the methods I used to achieve my immortality.”

Jace stopped walking so suddenly that Magnus almost bumped into him. He turned, grabbing Magnus by the shoulders, pinning Magnus with his eyes.

“Does that mean _I’m_ going to be immortal?” Jace said with such gravitas and naked hope that Magnus pushed down the laugh that was threatening to bubble out of their throat.

“One of many methods I used, my eager little warrior,” Magnus said, gesturing at the trail ahead. Jace, crestfallen, turned back around and started walking again. “If immortality were as straightforward as mastering a few forms, you mortals would become a dying breed.”

“Too bad,” Jace said philosophically, bouncing back quickly. “I’d make a great san sin.”

“I’ve heard of the sects that practice those methods,” Isabelle said. “It sounds pretty intense.”

“It’s not for the faint of heart,” Magnus said. “It’s grueling, relentless once you hit the tipping point, and will almost certainly drive you to the brink of insanity and death more than once. It’s also wondrous, unfolding the universe in indescribable and magnificent ways.”

“Kind of a mixed bag, then,” Jace said, and Magnus couldn’t help but laugh at how accurately Jace had summed it up.

“Too true, little warrior,” Magnus agreed.

“I’m totally on board with this nickname, by the way,” Jace said, looking over his shoulder with a grin. “I mean, not that I’m _little_ , but I’m secure enough in my masculinity to appreciate an affectionate diminutive when I hear one.”

Isabelle looked back at Jace, puzzled, and Magnus had a similarly bemused expression.

“What?” Jace said, looking back and forth between them. He raised his hands to the vicinity of his head, shaking them around. “Yeah, that tea has my brain buzzing at, like, a hundred miles an hour so maybe some of Magnus’s vocabulary has been rubbing off on me, but I also read. Sometimes. You know. When there’s nothing else to do.”

Isabelle’s laugh tinkled like a set of sweet bells.

“Oh, Jace, I love you,” she said, wiping at the corner of one of her eyes.

“Love you, too, A-belle,” Jace replied warmly.

“Let’s stop for lunch!” Maia called back, and they went to join her in a cutout on the trail.

* * *

The next morning, Magnus ended up walking beside Alec, the trail wide enough for them to walk in pairs for this stretch. Magnus prepared themself for a silent few hours, which was fine with them, so they were surprised when Alec spoke.

“Do you have a faith, Magnus?” Alec said, his voice and face too neutral for Magnus to have a sense of why he was asking.

“I’m a daoist,” Magnus answered. “Though it’s not quite as… domesticated as what I saw in the daoist monasteries who hosted us.”

“Domesticated?” Alec repeated, his thick brows drawing together.

“It wasn’t something we practiced in a building.” Magnus said. “We were in the forest, by the river, at the oceanside. All of the natural world was our temple.”

Alec nodded, listening attentively.

“We were interested in discovering the limits of our bodies, our spirits,” Magnus continued, scratching the annoyingly persistent itch behind their left ear. “We believed that by surpassing those limits, by diving into the deepest unknown, we would find union with the dao.”

Alec was contemplative. “Did you?” he finally asked.

Magnus laughed, a light bubble in their lungs. “I wouldn’t be here if I had.” Magnus took a moment to try to formulate their thoughts; no one had ever asked them questions like this before. “I’m a very… accomplished practitioner. But finding the Way is about much more than skill. I don’t know that I ever came close, beyond glimpses here and there.”

“Was there…” Alec paused. “Something that held you back?”

_Anger. Pride. Hunger for power._

“Myself,” Magnus said, flashing a tight smile. They decided it was time to shift the focus. “And what about you, young novice? How did you come to follow the Sage?”

Alec blinked a few times, clearly not expecting for the tables to be turned. As if he was surprised that Magnus was interested. “I arrived at the monastery when I was six years old.”

“Your parents sent you?” Magnus said. They leaned over as they walked, plucking a small white flower that was growing out of the side of the stone.

“Ah, no.” Alec looked down then, pressing his lips together. “Our aunties sent us there, after they died. Jace and Isabelle and me.”

“Oh, Alec.” Magnus reached out without thinking, placing a hand on Alec’s lower back. “I’m so sorry.”

Alec looked at Magnus, eyes wide with shock. In Magnus’s time, placing a hand in the small of the back was a gesture of comfort, but from Alec’s expression, it appeared that was no longer the case. They snatched their hand back quickly.

“I…” Alec glanced back, like he was trying to make sure Magnus was no longer touching him. Magnus cursed internally. “It’s all right. They’ve moved on to their next lives.”

 _That doesn’t mean you don’t miss them in this one_ , Magnus wanted to say, but decided against it, wary of making Alec more uncomfortable.

“You and Jace are brothers?” Magnus said instead. “Does that mean Isabelle is your sister, too?”

“We were all siblings, before. But Jace and I renounced the relationship when we took our first vows, and Isabelle respects that.” Alec clasped his hands behind him, straightening.

“I see,” Magnus said, though what they saw was completely different than what Alec was telling them. From what they’d seen of the way Jace and Isabelle watched over Alec, they hadn’t renounced anything.

Alec was quiet for a few moments, looking out ahead with a faraway expression.

“It was my parents’ final wish,” Alec said quietly.

Magnus looked up at Alec to let him know they were listening, but stayed silent to leave him room to find the words he seemed to be searching for.

“They had made arrangements. They were both devoted lay practitioners, you see. My mother had been planning on joining the monastery, before she met my father. The same one where I live.” Alec sagged after the words were out, the effort leaving him drained.

Magnus wrapped their hands together to stop from reaching out. The weight of Alec’s grief was painfully visible, but it wasn’t their place.

“You’re following her footsteps, then.” Magnus said.

Alec looked at Magnus, one side of their mouth lifting up into an almost-smile. “I’m doing my best.” Then he cleared his throat, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “Anyway, that’s how I got started on the path.”

There were so many things Magnus wished they could say, but they picked up Alec’s subject change, respecting that he needed it.

“And your next vows will be for your ordination?” Magnus said, stepping aside at a narrow corner and gesturing for Alec to go first.

“That’s right,” Alec said once Magnus came around the corner. “Although, I…”

Alec stopped himself, shaking his head and looking away.

“You’re not sure you want to?” Magnus hazarded.

“No, it’s not that,” Alec said with a sharp shake of his head. “It’s -- I can --”

Magnus focused their eyes on the road, giving Alec space again.

“I can take the vows when I’m ready,” Alec said. “Jace and I are both old enough, now. But there’s an elder monk, Magdalena. They’ve helped me, been a mentor to me.”

“And they don’t think you’re ready?” Magnus said, a little baffled. They couldn’t see why: everyone who met the group thought Alec was a monk, Magnus included. All he was missing was the title.

Alec nodded, breathing out through his nose.

“Well,” Magnus said. “Surely this whole expedition is a mark in your favor.”

“You’d think,” Alec muttered under his breath.

Magnus realized they were entering a field of quicksand, with no way to spot stable ground, and perilously close to losing their footing.

“It’s just a matter of time,” Magnus declared, emphasizing by extending a hand in the air. “I’m not exaggerating when I say that I have never met a more… monk-ish person in my life, and I’ve met quite a few people.”

Alec looked at Magnus, a sliver of vulnerability in his next words. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” Magnus said, imbuing the word with as much certainty as they could.

“Well,” Alec said, covering his mouth with his hand for a moment, smiling into it. “Thanks, Magnus.”

They moved onto other topics after that, but Alec’s shy and pleased smile lingered with Magnus long after it had disappeared.

* * *

“No long goodbyes right now, I’m sweaty and gross,” Maia said, waving them off when they were back in the laketop at the meeting point where they’d begun their journey. “Just come see us before you leave town, okay?”

They agreed to meet tomorrow morning at the teahouse and went their separate ways, Maia and Lydia headed for home and the rest of them going back to the monastery, eager to bathe and eat a real meal.

They discussed logistics over dinner, trying to figure out the best course of action. Ambrose had told Magnus that the most stable entrance to the Western Reach was in the easternmost region of the Han nation, which wasn’t possible to reach by foot from this part of The Hundred Villages. Even if it had been possible, it would have taken over a month, and traveling outside of the cities was no longer a safe option because of the looming certainty of yiugwai attacks.

“There’s an ether hub in the capital,” Isabelle said. “We’ll have to get together some currency, but if we use airsleeves to hop to the capital, we can be in the Han nation in a day or two.”

“I don’t know,” Alec said, visibly uncomfortable, poking his chopsticks aimlessly into his bowl.

“We can go to the capital by water, but even with a speed glider we’d still be camping outside.” Jace said. He reached for the plate of fried daufu, grabbing half of the remaining pieces.

“Ether hub?” Magnus asked. This was the first Magnus was hearing of them.

“The ether element is infused into a portal. You walk in one side, and then,” Isabelle opened her closed fist abruptly, splaying her fingers wide, “poof, you walk out of your destination portal.”

“They’re not a popular form of transportation here in the Villages or in the Han nation, which is why we have to go to a large city,” Jace said, gesturing with the daufu in his chopsticks as he spoke. “A lot of people are… weirded out by ether.”

“Really?” Magnus sighed. “How disheartening.”

At the three blank looks, they realized it hadn’t come up before now.

“Ether is my element,” Magnus explained, running their finger along the rim of their tea cup. “Not that it’s doing me much good right now, but I’m hoping to regain my control with time.”

Alec looked at Magnus with a strange, troubled expression in his eyes, before shaking his head slightly and looking back down at his bowl.

“You just keep getting cooler and cooler,” Jace said wonderingly, like he couldn’t decide if it was unfair or not.

“I’ll try to control myself,” Magnus said with a wink. “But no promises.”

“What are we thinking for currency?” Alec said, getting them back on topic. He was picking large pieces of ginger off his bok choy, and leaving them in a small pile in his empty tea cup. Isabelle hadn’t been exaggerating about Alec’s no-flavor policy.

“I may be able to help with that,” Magnus said, unpeeling one of the black sesame candies they’d picked up on the way here. It was a painstaking process because of their claws, but a delectable bite was worth the effort. “I should be able to double our currency in the next city, if I can find dice and cards like I did here.”

“I knew I spotted you playing cards before we left!” Isabelle said triumphantly, and Jace groaned, apparently having lost the argument with her.

“Gambling,” Alec said, like just the word left a sour taste in his mouth.

Magnus stiffened, tapping a single claw on the flat surface of their sesame candy. Tiny crumbs of it burst out each time they made contact, scattering like tiny pebbles in the wrapper.

“I don’t cheat, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Magnus said carefully, voice taut. They knew that buddhists were discouraged from gambling, but that didn’t make Alec’s reaction any less unpleasant.

“ _No_ ,” Isabelle said, shooting Alec daggers with her eyes. “Of course we don’t think that, Magnus.”

Alec huffed, looking away, but didn’t say anything else.

“Besides,” Isabelle said. “An ether jump isn’t cheap. You two could beg alms for weeks, and we still might not have enough. Unless someone else has a better idea?”

They all glanced around the table, but no one spoke. Alec’s demeanor shifted to resignation.

“Hai hai,” Jace said brightly, scooping the last piece of daufu when he saw that no one else was interested. “Then I guess we’ve got ourselves a plan.”

* * *

They shared a pot of tea and then it was time. The goodbyes with Maia and Lydia didn’t take long, but Magnus was glad they took the time to do it properly.

“I’ll miss you, kumquat,” Magnus said, putting their arms up to imitate the gesture they’d seen her perform with the others. They crossed their arms in front of them at the wrists, leaving enough space for Maia to intersect her own arms, and then the both leaned forward, touching foreheads.

“Come and say hi next time you’re in town,” she said, giving him the full force of her lovely smile. “Or, you know, send an aim if you all ever get a lightscroll.”

They headed out and purchased supplies for the next few days and some gear for outdoor travel, since the entrance Ambrose had told them about was in the middle of a large, unpopulated Han forest. They didn’t know if such supplies would be readily available in the Han cities.

Magnus vaguely remembered that the Han nation had been at war, though with whom and concerning what matters was fuzzy, because they’d paid little attention at the time. According to the others, the territory that was the Han nation had once between seventeen different small kingdoms. There was a long and bloody history that involved many of the kingdoms trying to conquer the others, consolidating over time, until they unified under one banner. Then they began moving south, to the Hundred Villages, and the Gwongdung Prefecture to the West emerged from that extended conflict. There was peace now, but the relations between the Han and the other two nations was tense.

They went to their appointment with the airsleeve vendor at mid-day, loading the packs up in a luggage sleeve. Isabelle steered the luggage sleeve, and they made their way to the next city.

Jace and Isabelle frolicked happily through the air, and this time around, Magnus was getting the hang of it. Alec didn’t look comfortable, but there was a set to his jaw, and he managed to steer himself in a relatively straight line. It took them about forty minutes to reach their destination, another river-and-canal settlement. Once they took the sleeves off, they floated back up into the air. They shot off in the direction they’d come, returning themselves to the vendor.

They were able to hop two more cities, and then between the fully-booked airsleeve schedule and their low funds, they opted to spend the night.

The next day, their fourth hop took them to the capital, Gam Seui.

“Approach slowly,” the airsleeve vendor advised them. “Get your lighteyes ready if you want to get some good scenes.”

Magnus was now joining Isabelle and Jace in their frolicking, doing flashy somersaults and racing through stands of trees with Jace. They’d found that the secret was to tie the sleeve tightly around their body, and to direct the steering string with subtle movements rather than large ones.

As the capital appeared in the distance, the airsleeve vendor’s advice made sense.

Magnus was forced to adjust their perception of mortals as the city came into view. It was a marvel, like nothing they’d ever seen, and they almost couldn’t believe mortals had created something so incredibly beautiful.

Going as high as the sleeve would allow, Magnus saw the city from a bird’s eye view. It was on a large, wide hill that rose towards the center at a gentle incline. At the summit of the hill, seven waterfalls emerged from the earth. The cascades of brilliant blue water tumbled down the side of the hill and spread out into seven wide rivers that extended well beyond the city itself, the water snaking off into the horizon. The city was divided into seven equal triangular sections, hairline creeks coming off of the rivers like the roots of a tree. Each section had a large lake in the middle of its widest area, surrounded by well-kept gardens that were community gathering places.

The sphere-shaped buildings were a mixture of different shades of clay: creamy white, a shimmering amber, and a burnt orange that had gold undertones. Many were decorated with intricate patterns, some made of colorful stones placed directly into the clay, and others painted with inks. Some of the spheres were large, some were small single dwellings, and others were small spheres piled together like a honeycomb, many people walking in and out of their entrances.

“Who would’ve thought,” Magnus murmured to themself, shaking their head. They made their way down to join the others, lingering on the view as they returned to the ground.

* * *

“So the hub is closed all day tomorrow,” Alec repeated for the third time, like if he said it again he could make it not true.

“That’s correct,” the cashier said, already craning their head to look over Alec’s shoulder. They wore a neat braid and had no time for nonsense. “No jumps on element-gathering day. Next!”

“Gratitude for your kind attention,” Alec said woodenly, and they followed him out of the building.

They walked across the city, going to find a local monastery. Magnus brushed their fingers along the smooth surfaces of the clay buildings; they were warm to the touch from the morning’s sunlight. This was one of the few cities they’d visited that had sidewalks, and the people were very diverse -- their features, their clothing, and the mixture of languages they were speaking.

Isabelle explained that they were headed towards one of the few buddhist monasteries in the Villages; the nation was predominantly taoist, so it was only the large metropolises that there were enough practitioners to support a temple. The monastery was a small, creamy-white honeycomb structure. Buddhist imagery and symbols were inlaid into the walls with round, gray stones: the eight-spoked wheel, lotus flowers, the endless knot. It was bustling with activity but still very welcoming.

“We are honored to receive our Gwongdung kinpeople,” Pearl said, the novice who had volunteered to show them around. They had a bright smile and wore robes that were slightly different than Alec’s and Jace’s. “If you’ll follow me.”

“You two will be sharing?” Pearl asked Jace and Isabelle, picking up that they were joined.

“Got it in one,” Jace said, and he and Isabelle went into the small room, leaving the door open behind them.

Pearl led them to the room right next door, which a quick glance inside showed was adjoining Jace and Isabelle’s room. Pearl extended a hand, smiling at them.

“And for you two?” Pearl said.

There was a brief, tense pause, and then Alec’s face slid closed, like a black curtain being pulled down over a window, blocking off every inch of sunlight.

“We’re not joined,” Alec said, in a tone so cold that Magnus’s jaw tightened and their throat contracted.

“Oh!” Pearl immediately began to bow. “Apologies for my carelessness, kind kinperson, this poor novice spoke without thought.”

“No matter,” Magnus said to them gently, because even though they were fuming at Alec, they weren’t going to take it out on this innocent stranger. “Could we get separate rooms?”

Pearl clutched their hands together, distress written on their features. “Oh, kind person, it is just that during the dry season we have so many visitors.” They looked at Alec with trepidation; his impassive mask hadn’t shifted. “This is our last room.”

“That’s fine,” Alec said, not quite so cold but still devoid of emotion. He bowed to Pearl. “Gratitude for the accommodation, kind kinperson.”

Pearl nodded, their stance still nervous. “Please let me know if there’s anything else you need.” Pearl bowed once more and then walked off quickly, likely relieved to be done with them.

Magnus went into the room, throwing their pack onto the floor. They turned around, fully intending to storm out. The only problem was that Alec had closed the door and was standing in front of it, blocking their exit.

“Move,” Magnus said, crossing their arms over their chest. Of course someone like Alec would be embarrassed to be joined with someone like Magnus, that was a given, but that didn’t mean Alec had to be so blatantly ungracious about the whole thing.

“Magnus,” Alec said, voice low. He seemed like he’d snapped out of his trance, biting his bottom lip anxiously.

“I’m sure Pearl meant no offense to your joined,” Magnus said. They imagined that Alec had a devout practitioner waiting at home for him. “But neither of us deserved that.”

Alec looked down, his chest rising and falling.

“Fine,” Magnus said, trying to get around Alec to reach for the doorknob.

“I -- just wait, let me --” Alec slid his forearm up Magnus’s, grabbing their elbow in a tight grip.

Magnus closed their eyes briefly, and then turned to look at Alec. The anger drained out of them as they took in the lines of his face: the pinched squint around his eyes, the unnatural clench of his jaw, the pleading in his eyes.

“It’s not you,” Alec said, finally, dropping Magnus’s elbow, although they were still standing unusually close to each other. “It’s me.”

Magnus waited, but Alec couldn’t even hold their eye.

Then the details started to come together.

Magnus realized it had been there all along: the way Alec tensed when they met new people; how he hadn’t mentioned his joined back home, not once in all this time; the way he sometimes looked at Jace and Isabelle when he thought no one else saw him, with a longing that had made Magnus idly wonder if he was harboring feelings for one of them.

“You’re unjoined,” Magnus said, their entire understanding of Alec shifting in that second.

Magnus didn’t have to be an expert on mortals to know how rare Alec’s state was. If the first joining didn’t form, the human or spirit being would continue trying until the right match was found. It continued into adolescence if need be, though it almost never took that long.

Being unjoinable was the worst possible outcome.

“I hadn’t realized,” Magnus said, reaching out and lightly touching Alec’s elbow.

“Everyone at home… they know,” Alec said, his words coming out haltingly. “I’m not used to talking about it.”

“We don’t have to.” Magnus said.

Alec pulled away, walking into the room. He took his pack off his back, letting it drop clumsily to the floor.

“Anyway, I--” Alec turned back around, shifting awkward on his feet. “I’m sorry that happened. What they assumed.” He still wasn’t looking at Magnus’s face.

And that was when Magnus realized how wrong they’d been, about so many things. Alec hadn’t been embarrassed that Pearl assumed Magnus was his joined; he thought that _he_ was the embarrassment.

Magnus walked towards Alec with purposeful steps, reaching out and taking Alec’s shoulders firmly in their hands. “I don’t accept your apology,” they said, probably speaking more strongly than they should, but not caring. Alec looked up at Magnus then, a thread of alarm in his eyes.

“I don’t accept your apology,” Magnus repeated, more gently. “Because if I were a mortal, having you as my joined would be an honor, Alec. Nothing less.”

Something in Alec’s face cracked, then, a jagged fissure breaking what was left of his composure. He buried his face in his hands, breathing shallowly. Magnus guided him over to a chair that was next to the small desk, and he sat down without resistance, finally dropping his hands from his face. His expression was numb.

“I’ll go get us some water and food,” Magnus said, hoping they were making the right decision. They felt that Alec needed some time, and were planning to ask Jace and Isabelle to check on him on their way out. Alec nodded, managing a small smile.

“And if it makes a difference, I’m happy to let everyone think what Pearl did,” Magnus said before they opened the door. They wouldn’t pressure Alec, of course, but they wanted him to know that they didn’t mind. Something told them it would help Alec move more easily through the world.

Isabelle and Jace were already standing in the hallway when they came out, talking in low voices.

“Magnus,” Jace said, stepping forward and laying a hand on Magnus’s shoulder. “Just -- thank you.”

“We heard most of it through the door,” Isabelle said.

“You’ll look in on him?” Magnus said. Isabelle nodded, her eyes already drawn to the door of the room. Magnus stepped out of the way, waiting until he could hear the quiet murmurs of Alec’s voice inside before they left.

They asked Pearl to drop the food off, and decided to spend a few hours exploring the city and giving the siblings some time. By the time they returned mid-evening, the room was dark and Alec was asleep, tangled in the sheets of the bed mat.

Magnus fixed the blankets as best they could, and went to sit in the chair, settling in for the night.


	11. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus teaches the first training session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hei = qi  
> lunwui = samsara (the wheel of life / cyclicality of all life, matter, existence)

In a way, Alec was relieved. Ever since he’d left the monastery, he’d been waiting for it: the awkward explanations, the inevitable pity, the aftermath where people would look at Alec differently, now that they’d found out what he was. But it had only been Magnus who’d found out, and in the morning they hadn’t said a word about it, chatting easily with Alec over breakfast about the shopping trip they were planning with Isabelle. Alec kept checking, but they weren’t looking at him any differently.

Their enthusiasm for clothing was baffling to Alec, but strangely contagious. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself agreeing with Magnus that a pair of gloves and a hat would be practical investments.

“Nothing fancy, though,” Alec said, narrowing his eyes at Magnus.

“Fancy, no,” Magnus said. They looked Alec up and down, pursing their lips. “Austere, functional, and maybe just a bit bold, yes.”

Alec had very little idea what that meant, but perhaps it was better that way.

“I’d like for you to join us,” Magnus said, blowing lightly on the ceramic spoon full of congee. “This afternoon, for our first training session.”

“Me?” Alec tore off a piece of his thin, fried pancake. He squinted, remembering the many, many times he’d been knocked to the ground. “I’m not comfortable with martial arts.”

“Neither is Isabelle,” Magnus pointed out. They were wearing their long hair in a loose ponytail today, and they tucked some errant strands behind their ear.

Alec shrugged, tearing up a few more strips of the pancake, dropping them into the congee to let them soften.

“The forms are a meditative practice, as well,” Magnus said, angling their jaw and leaning their face against their right hand. “In case I neglected to mention that.”

From the knowing twinkle in Magnus’s eye, it seemed they knew that this would be just the thing to pique Alec’s interest. Alec smiled a little, grabbing the pot to refill their cups with more of the blend that was popular in this region, a mixture of green tea, gauji berries, and osmanthus flowers.

“Similar to a sitting meditation, you’re exercising concentration and focus,” Magnus went on, picking up the cup and briefly inhaling the sweet, flowery fragrance with a pleased hum. “But it’s much more than that.”

“How so?” Alec said. He knew in an abstract way that there were other lineages where martial arts were deeply integrated into the eightfold path. In his lineage, it was mostly used as a form of maintaining physical health, since they spent so much time in seated meditation. A few of the practitioners from martial lineages had visited his monastery over the years, but Alec couldn’t really reconcile the seemingly violent practice with the nonviolence of the path.

“Well, to try to describe it using buddhist terms…” Magnus paused for a moment, extending a hand and waving their fingers, like they were pulling the words from the air. “You’re using physical mastery as a gateway, to pierce the veil of illusion and explore the nondual reality, where there’s no separation between you and the hei that permeates all things.”

Alec stared at Magnus, his spoon poised halfway in the air between his bowl and his mouth. For some inexplicable reason, his cheeks flushed, perhaps with how unexpected it was to hear Magnus speaking in such terms.

“I didn’t realize you were so familiar with our teachings,” Alec said, fumbling to put his spoon down.

A shadow passed over Magnus’s eyes, their gaze going distant.

“I knew another practitioner,” they said, a bit of melancholy seeping into their tone, at once caustic and wistful. “A very long time ago.”

“Oh,” Alec said, really wishing he’d said something else.

Magnus blinked, and seemed to shake it off. “Anyway, that’s all ancient history,” they said lightly, bringing their focus back to the present.

Alec took a moment to think about it, looking down at the floor in front of him. He’d been struggling more than he liked to admit with his meditation practices lately -- he couldn’t seem to find the familiar pathways, like the ground had shifted under his feet. And he did have an intellectual curiosity about other traditions.

“I’d be interested in observing,” he decided. “If that’s all right.”

“Splendid,” Magnus said, clapping their hands. “I’m off to gather up Isabelle, but we’ll meet back here for lunch?”

“Hai hai,” Alec agreed.

Magnus swept out of the room in a bustle of movement, and as he finished his breakfast, Alec realized that he’d been talked into the new clothing items and attending the lesson in the span of fifteen minutes. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, smiling a little, strangely unbothered.

* * *

“I’m glad you’re coming,” Jace said, tossing another weed in the basket between them. They were helping with the gardening chores and the choy sum beds needed attention.

“Just observing,” Alec said again, because he didn’t want Jace to get any ideas about sparring him.

“Sure, sure,” Jace said, rubbing his forearm over his forehead, leaving behind a smear of black dirt. “But honestly, Alec, we’ll all feel better having you there. This whole yiugwai thing is--” Jace shook his head. “It’s a lot.”

Alec snipped a few browning leaves off the bottom of the nearest plant. He frowned. “Yeah. I’ve mostly been trying not to think about it, to be honest.”

“Can I just --” Jace toyed with the hand shovel, then looked at Alec. “Look, I know you don’t like when I get all mushy or whatever, but I’m really not okay with this whole yiugwai-eating-your-soul thing. Neither is Isabelle.”

Alec looked back at Jace. “I know. I wouldn’t be either, if it were one of you. But there isn’t really anything we can do about it.”

“Well…” Jace started, his gaze sliding away like it did when he was about to suggest something Alec wouldn’t like.

“No,” Alec said, shaking his head. “That’s not an option.”

“Come on, Alec,” Jace said, stabbing the shovel at the roots of another weed. “You volunteered. No one would think any less of you if we went home. Someone else will step forward.”

“Look, I --” Alec sighed, because he knew he’d be making the same argument in Jace’s position. Losing the opportunity to attain nippun was… a literal nightmare, something he wouldn’t wish anyone, even if he were the vengeful type.

Alec toyed with the leaves of the choy sum, rubbing the smooth green edge between his fingers.

“You’re right,” he finally said. Jace’s eyes widened, probably because this might be the first time Alec had ever said those words to him. “I can go back home. Someone else would happily take my place.”

“Great,” Jace said, moving like he was going to stand up, like he was ready to get them on the road right this moment. Alec reached out, putting a hand on Jace’s shoulder to keep him in place. He sank back with a confused expression.

“You’re right,” Alec repeated. “But I don’t want to go home.”

Jace frowned, heaving a sigh. “I knew that was too easy.”

“I’m not trying to be stubborn,” Alec said.

Jace laughed, shaking his head. “I love you, Alec, but that’s basically your middle name.”

“I just…” Alec tapped the palm of his hand on his thigh, because Jace deserved a real explanation for this. Because if Alec stayed, Jace and Isabelle were staying, too, and that wasn’t something that Alec took lightly. “You remember what you said to me, about trusting the pou saat?”

“I think I’m about to wish I hadn’t,” Jace said, slicing his knife at the base of a plant to harvest it.

“Well, you were right then, too,” Alec said, and he felt a warmth in his chest, the words coming more easily. Something inside of him was starting to coalesce, become stronger. “The pou saat gave me this blessing for a reason, and I… _feel_ it, in a way I never really did before, not even when I was reciting chants in their name for hours a day.”

Jace was staring at Alec, the knife forgotten in his hand.

“I don’t know how else to explain it, Jace, other than… I trust their wisdom.” Alec exhaled, the warmth diffusing through him. “Even though I’m terrified.”

Jace was quiet for a long moment, just looking at Alec. Then he leaned forward, putting one of his hands over Alec’s and squeezing.

“Okay,” he said, nodding once, the gesture decisive.

“That simple?” Alec said, surprised. Jace was generally pretty easygoing, but he could tenacious when he wanted to be.

“That simple,” Jace said, nothing ambiguous in his tone. “We’ll see this through to the end.”

And Alec hadn’t used the word in years, but it felt like it had been no time at all. He turned his hand so that he could grasp Jace’s, holding tightly. “Thanks, daidai.” _Little brother_. The expected pang of guilt didn’t materialize; there was just a soft deepening to the lingering warmth in his chest.

Jace’s smile spread across his face like a flash, surprised and pleased all at once. “Always, gogo.”

* * *

At noon, the monastery was empty except for Alec and Jace. Monks in the Gwongdung Prefecture weren’t required to contribute elemental energies, and laypeople usually did at work. That apparently wasn’t the case here in the Villages. From what the other monks had told him, the ceremony lasted for four hours: one hour of preparation where the joined spent time connecting emotionally, psychically, and spiritually; one hour of pouring; and two hours of rest and celebration afterwards.

When Alec went out to watch, he understood why the ether hub wasn’t running today. The streets were completely empty, the only people visible the ones standing around the lakes in the center of each city section. One lake for each of the elements; the lake near the monastery was for the earth element.

The joined humans and spirit beings were sitting side by side around the shores, holding hands and singing. They poured their energies into the lake water, their bodies positively radiant. The energies collected in the water in a beautiful miasma of swirling colors.

Alec went back inside after a few minutes, feeling strange about observing without participating, and even more so because everyone was beside their joined.

It wasn’t long before Magnus and Isabelle returned with their hands full of bags, bantering cheerfully. Jace finished up with his bath around the same time, toweling off his hair and peeking inside the bags curiously. After they ate lunch, they headed out to the courtyard for the training session.

“Convenient that the monks aren’t here,” Magnus said, and removed their shirt in a swift motion, tossing it behind them carelessly. Their tawny skin was vibrant in the sunlight, and they were well-muscled, their broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist.

Alec swallowed wrong and started coughing, waving off the others when they stepped towards him.

“I’m on board,” Jace said, and took off his prominent robe. He stood there in only his inner robe, which covered him from his waist to his mid-calves. He’d tied it differently than normal, weaving it tightly around his legs so that it looked more like pants.

“Well, well, well,” Isabelle said, looking at them both and grinning. “We’ve got quite the little show going here.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Alec croaked when the others looked at him, shaking his head vehemently.

Magnus indicated that they should sit on a stone bench, and Magnus moved into the center of the courtyard, standing barefoot in the grass. Magnus was wearing form-fitting pants that went down to the knee, and their hair was tied into a tight knot at the crown of their head.

“First, I’m going to demonstrate,” Magnus said, crouching down into a wide-legged pose. “This is what it looks like to go through the motions, without the proper intention and energetic focus.”

Magnus performed a series of punches, kicks, and lunges. Their movements were crisp, and there was an obvious strength in their movements. It was somehow different from the times Alec had seen them fight before, though, in a way he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Magnus returned to their original starting position, getting into the wide-legged pose again. “And this is what it looks like when it’s done right. Pay close attention.”

Magnus began by closing their eyes and taking ten breaths. The breaths were like nothing Alec had ever seen -- they were so loud that the inhalations and exhalations seemed to fill the courtyard, even though Magnus was only breathing through their nose. Their abdomen expanded and contracted visibly each time.

When Magnus opened their eyes, they were glowing, and there was a charge gathering in the air. Magnus went through the same motions again, but they were exhaling loudly with each thrust or kick. The first time through, only certain muscles had engaged; this time, every single muscle engaged continuously, from their calves to their forearms to their pectorals.

It was like the difference between night and day. It was no longer just a fist punching into the air: it was Magnus, gathering the entire strength from every particle of their being, and directing all of that energy into the point where their fist met air. Magnus was magnificent in their ferocity. There was more than just physical strength in the movements. There was _power_. No wonder those yiugwai hadn’t stood a chance against Magnus.

Alec put a hand on his chest, sucking in a breath because he’d forgotten how to do so while watching.

When Magnus finished, they walked over towards the bench, resting a hand easily on their hip.

“That’s what I can teach you,” they said with a feral grin, eyes still glowing faintly. “Well,” they amended. “The beginner’s version of that.”

Jace, who had been watching with wide, unblinking eyes, snapped his mouth closed with an audible sound.

“Yes, please,” Jace whispered with such reverence that Isabelle laughed and reached out, putting a hand around his shoulders.

Alec observed the rest of the whole lesson, though he didn’t learn as much as he would have liked. Jace without his prominent robe was one thing, it wasn’t the first time Alec had seen him, but Magnus’s state of undress was a perpetual distraction because it was so unusual.

Alec noticed the subtle pattern on their skin; they had slightly darker, more richly-colored areas which seemed to be faint leopard spots. There was the fine line of fur going from the base of their neck all the way down their spine, the golden hairs sparking in the sunlight. Their tail was in constant motion, too; it undulated behind them, or they used it when they were correcting Isabelle and Jace’s postures.

Alec had noticed it, before, how fluid and feline Magnus’s movements were. But in this setting it was so much more apparent, impossible to look away from.

“You look like you worked out harder than us,” Isabelle said when they were done, delicately arching a brow. She reached up and wiped a drop of sweat off of Alec’s forehead.

“It’s hot out,” Alec mumbled, using his sleeve to wipe his face. Isabelle’s smile just grew inexplicably wider.

“Ready for afternoon meditation?” Alec called to Jace, who was still grilling Magnus with questions.

“You go ahead,” Jace answered distractedly, waving a hand in the direction of the meditation hall. “I’ll catch up.”

“I’ll join you,” Isabelle said.

She wove an arm through one of Alec’s and they headed back inside. The cool air inside cooled Alec’s overheated skin, the softly-filtered daylight gentler than the noontime rays that had been beating down on them in the courtyard.

“So we’re not going home,” Isabelle said, tone casual.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about --” Alec started.

“No, Alec,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. “I’m not going to try to talk him into taking me home.”

“But --”

“We’re seeing this through,” she said firmly, repeating Jace’s earlier words.

Alec huffed, turning his mouth down at the corners. “But at least you two could be safe --”

“Did you consider that we might need this, too?” Isabelle said, holding his arm a little tighter and stopping him from walking further. “We were ready to go back to keep you safe, but how do you think we’d feel, being back home just waiting to hear if you’re alive or dead?”

She looked up at him, eyes shining.

“No,” she said, voice going tight. “There’s no way in deiyuk I’m doing that.”

Alec sighed. He could see on her face that there was no swaying her. She’d been his last hope to convince Jace, but with the two of them united in their decision, there wasn’t anything he could do.

“And we received their blessing, too,” Isabelle said, a light rebuke. “It wasn’t just you.”

Alec broke eye contact, not wanting to hear what she was saying, but unable to argue with her point. If he was going to entrust his own path to the pou saat, he couldn’t turn around and say in the same breath that Jace and Isabelle didn’t have the same right.

“You’re right,” he said, chastised. “I want to respect your path, too.”

Isabelle smiled, bringing her finger up to brush the corner of her eyes. “Good,” she said, and they resumed their walk to the meditation room.

* * *

“This one is yours,” Magnus said, bringing over a small bag and depositing it in front of where Alec was sitting on the floor, studying a scripture. Magnus went back to organizing their other purchases; they’d gotten back late, tonight, because they’d gone out to play some extra card games today. The Han nation didn’t have buddhist or taoist monasteries, so they were going to need extra currency for lodging.

Alec eyed it curiously.

“Open it!” Magnus called over their shoulder, like they had eyes in the back of their head.

Alec put down the scripture, pulling out the crumpled paper that was on the top of the bag. He pulled out a pair of gloves, a scarf, and a hat. They were all a matching deep blue color with subtle silver accents, and the fabric was thick and plush. He slipped one of the gloves on, and it fit perfectly. The silver embroidery that went down each finger made Alec’s long fingers look elegant, somehow.

He picked up the bag to fold it closed, but felt a weight at the bottom, and pulled out a string of prayer beads.

He could tell from the length that it had 108 beads. The beads were different than any he’d ever seen. They looked like ice -- they had deep cobalt center, and the color threaded out in snowflake-like pattern through the pale, translucent aquamarine material of the spheres. The tassel was a similar pattern, a deep blue color at the top which faded into a pale blue at the tips.

“Sage’s blessing,” he whispered. He glanced up to find Magnus standing over him, watching him closely.

“I’ll take that to mean you like it?” They said, running their thumb back and forth over their knuckles.

“It’s beautiful,” Alec said, clutching the cool, smooth weight in his hand.

Magnus smiled, then, eyes crinkling fondly. “It reminded me of you.”

Something about the combination of Magnus’s gaze, their words, their gift in his hand -- it gave him a fluttering feeling in his chest, at once bright and thrilling, fluctuating across the thin line between anxiety and excitement.

“Thank you, Magnus,” Alec said softly, and the feeling infused his words, his tone lilting with delight in a way he’d never heard before. He didn’t recognize the sound of it at all.

They stayed like that for a long moment, and he thought he saw something in Magnus’s eyes, an answering sparkle, but then they gave a quick nod and broke eye contact, going back to the other side of the room to finish up organizing their things.

Alec waited for a moment, but returned to his scriptures when Magnus said nothing more. Twenty minutes later, Alec glanced out the window, seeing it was time for bed. He tidied up his things, and went to the bathroom down the hall to change into his sleep clothes.

“I’ll take the floor tonight,” Alec said, grabbing one of the two blankets I’d been given. “Since I took the bedmat last night.”

Magnus looked up from the novel they were reading in the chair, making an amused sound. “That’s very kind of you, young novice, but there’s no need. I’ll stay up and keep watch.”

“But we’re in the city,” Alec said, frowning. “The yiugwai haven’t attacked us when we’re in a settlement.”

“That’s no guarantee that one won’t try,” Magnus said.

“Then we can take turns,” Alec said, because Jace was right. When he wanted to, he could be very stubborn. “I’ll take the first watch, and wake you up if I need to.”

“The truth is,” Magnus sighed, setting the book down on the desk, “sleep holds absolutely no appeal for me right now.”

Alec knew that Magnus hadn’t been sleeping on the mountain, but he’d assumed that was only temporary. 

“But you need to rest,” Alec argued. Now that he was paying attention, he could see the faint dark circles under Magnus’s eyes, the subtle signs of exhaustion in their frame.

“And I will,” Magnus said, voice reassuring but obstinate. “Eventually. But tonight, I’m going to keep watch.”

“Okay,” Alec eventually relented, frowning. He didn’t want to pay back Magnus’s kindness with an argument. At least not tonight, but he had no intention of letting this situation go on indefinitely. Magnus might be immortal, but they even they needed to be able to let their guard down sometimes.

Alec adjusted the bedmat, re-arranging until he was satisfied, and then settled under the blankets. Magnus reached over and turned off the firesalt.

“Sleep well, young novice,” they said.

* * *

_“Are you empty of lunwui’s pleasures, beautiful novice?” The Sage asks, her wide-featured face placid as she looks at Alec. Her earthen eyes do not blink, steadfast and piercing._

_“Yes, Wise One,” Alec says, and his material body bows, but his translucent spirit remains upright, pinned by the Sage’s gaze. “I am an empty vessel to be filled.”_

_The Sage floats in the air above an infinite knot of flowing water; the infinite knot floats above the bamboo floor of the monastery, the slanting afternoon sunlight piercing through it. The narrow slivers of azure flow in soft whispers, winding above and below each other in endless, serpentine loop._

_“And yet,” the Sage says, elegantly extending one of her hands towards Alec’s spirit, her fingers unfurling like flower petals._

_When his spirit answers, a cascade of water pours from his mouth, flowing out across the floor in a spreading pool. He is filled to bursting with the water, and it begins to pour out of his eyes, twin streams of grief and joy._

_Magdalena emerges from the Sage’s body, stepping out and separating from her. They come to kneel in front of Alec, placing a finger underneath his chin, pulling his eyes skyward. Their dark, inky hair winds down their side in a sinuous wave._

_“What is the origin of your pleasure, beautiful novice?” they ask, and Alec is choking with the slowing water. It’s congealing inside of him, thickening, stagnating, dying._

_The water is rising: to their knees, their bellies, their chests._

_“How will I know?” He asks, as the ocean claims them, voice arising from the decay._

_“Find the current,” Magdalena tells him, and then they are all lost, consumed by the depth of his illusion._

* * *

Alec woke choking, his hand around his throat, a strong energy pulsating at the base of his spine.

“Alec,” Magnus was saying, one of their hands on his shoulder. Their eyes flashed in the low light. “Alec, are you all right?”

Alec subsided, his throat relaxing, but it moved up into his jaw, making his teeth chatter. The muscles in his shoulders were twitching, the pulsations going all the way through his hands.

“I -- I --” Alec took a few breaths, clenching his jaw so he could get the words out. “I’ll be fine.”

“What’s happening?” Magnus said, not sounding placated at all. They adjusted the blanket over Alec, covering him more fully. “Are you sick?”

“Just need --” Alec reached up, putting his hand on top of Magnus’s. “Some time.”

“Let me go and get you some --”

Alec gripped Magnus’s hand, keeping them in place. “Stay,” he breathed, his heart aching. It was an exquisite ache, a fullness and softness that was somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, but it left him feeling raw. The sensation of Magnus’s presence was a welcome anchor, a solidity that gave him strength.

“Very well,” Magnus sighed, moving back towards Alec. “But you’re scaring me, young novice.”

The chattering was easing in intensity, making it easier to speak, though he was even less inclined to words than he normally was. “I think I’m receiving guidance, Magnus,” Alec whispered, his sibilants coming with a hiss. “It’s… beautiful.”

Magnus looked down at him for a long time, unblinking.

“Lie down?” Alec asked, tugging Magnus’s wrist with his trembling fingers. He scooted his body backwards, making space. He’d extended the bedroll before he went to sleep so it big enough for two, just in case Magnus changed their mind. “You don’t have to sleep.”

Magnus took a deep breath, yielding, and lay down so that they were facing each other. They took both of Alec’s hands in theirs in the space between them, encasing his hands in the radiant warmth of Magnus’s skin and thawing his chilled fingers.

“I’m here,” Magnus said, squeezing Alec’s hands. “Rest now, little sapphire.”

Alec closed his eyes, exhaling a shuddering breath, and was asleep within minutes.


	12. Stunning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They travel to the Han nation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lunwui = samsara

Alec woke feeling strange, much like he had after the first dream. He was energized, but also tender, like the fresh skin of a newly-healed wound. There was a persistent tingling sensation at the periphery of his vision, and a tightness in his throat that made him feel like he was on the verge of tears. It was uncomfortable and unfamiliar -- he hadn’t cried since he was a child, and even then, it was rare. But he accepted it, because if it was part of the Sage blessing his dreams, it could only be for his benefit.

Magnus wasn’t in the room, so Alec got changed quickly and started packing up their things. The ether portal was open again today, so they were heading to the Han city that was closest to the forest. They would need to change to another type of transportation once they were there, which they’d have to figure out once they arrived.

“Good morning,” Magnus said with incredible cheer, sweeping into the room with flourish.

Alec looked up from the clothes he was folding, and his mouth dropped open. It seemed as if Magnus had put on every single item they purchased yesterday, all at once, with stunning effect.

They were wearing form-fitting pants that were a golden-orange color, subtle dragons sewn into the fabric. The tails began at the ankles, bodies curling up Magnus’s legs, and the faces emerging on the thighs. Their beautiful golden top was an asymmetrical design, going from their right shoulder down to their left side, leaving their left shoulder and a good portion of their chest bare. The wide hem had a design stitched with red thread, clouds and birds rendered in elegant spirals.

A jade pendant nestled between their collarbones, their fingernails were a dark maroon, and their face was transformed: their cheeks and forehead had a light shimmer, eyes outlined with dark pencil, eyelids smudged with burnt sienna.

Magnus had walked a few steps closer to him, and snapped their fingers in front of his face. “Did I damage you beyond repair?” They asked, a smile dancing on their lips.

Alec shook himself, coming back to reality.

“No, just -- surprised, with the,” Alec waved his hand in Magnus’s vicinity, trying to encompass their entire beingness, “I mean, it’s -- it’s good, the, uh, all the --”

“Breathe,” Magnus said with a laugh. They pulled a freshly-steamed rice bao and small cup of soymilk out of a small bag they were holding, extending it to him. “Have some breakfast.”

Alec accepted the food, grateful for the reprieve, and took a large bite of the bao. It was soft and chewy, with just a hint of sweetness.

“I feel so much more like myself,” Magnus said, sinking into the nearest chair gracefully. They seemed happier, Alec couldn’t help but notice, more comfortable. As if their skin fit better.

“You look nice,” Alec mumbled, pinching the bao between his fingers, the words completely inadequate but all he had at his disposal.

“Why thank you, young novice,” Magnus said, giving him a soft smile. “Coming from you, that’s high praise indeed. Need some help with that?” Magnus nodded towards the bag Alec was working on packing.

“Almost done,” Alec said, but Magnus got up to help anyway, and they made quick work of it.

Isabelle and Jace’s room still looked like it had been through a storm -- Jace was incorrigibly messy when someone, usually Alec, wasn’t looking over his shoulder -- so Magnus and Alec went in to help them next.

“I _love_ it,” Isabelle squealed in delight when she saw Magnus, running over to grab their hands. They discussed some of the finer points of Magnus’s choices -- _was the color combination too loud or not loud enough? And wouldn’t this look splendid with some knee-high boots?_ \-- which Alec quickly tuned out because they may as well have been speaking the language of the far islands for all he could understand.

By the time Jace and Isabelle were packed and had their breakfast, it was later than Alec would have liked, but luckily they all woke up very early. They made their way quickly to the ether hub, wanting to be sure they caught the first jump of the day. The lines were long, people from all three of the nations mixed in the crowd, languages intermingling in the air.

When it was finally their group’s turn at the hub, they glanced at each other. The portal was a large circle of ether energy inside of a clay arch, a pure blackness so deep that Alec felt almost dizzy looking at it. It felt as if both light and air avoided the space, a complete emptiness of all things. Alec’s stomach knotted and he swallowed, mouth dry.

“All right, all right,” Jace said, his usual bravado just a bit shaky, “I’ll go first.”

“We’ll go,” Isabelle said, reaching out for his hand.

Isabelle squared her shoulders, and they walked into the darkness hand in hand. Their bodies seemed to dissolve as they came in contact with the ether, disintegrating them into nothing.

“Maybe I should --” Alec stepped back, almost bumping into the person behind him, who shot him a glare.

“It’ll be fine,” Magnus said, placing a light hand on Alec’s elbow. They didn’t seem the least bit perturbed, but then again, ether was their element. They probably thought Alec was being ridiculous.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Magnus said, guiding Alec a step closer to the portal. Their gaze was steady and kind and didn’t make Alec feel like he was ridiculous, not even a little. “I promise.”

Alec’s beating heart slowed, and he nodded. “Hai.”

Magnus slid their hand lower, taking Alec’s, and they stepped through together, Alec squeezing his eyes shut just before they hit the threshold.

One minute, Alec was gripping Magnus’s hand, silently chanting to himself, and the next --

He wasn’t.

There was… nothing.

Where Alec had once existed, there was just an imprint of a memory of a dream. The void expanded in all directions, permeated all times, an infinite quiet and stillness and peace.

\-- and then he was walking out the other side, stumbling, and Magnus’s hand was steadying him as he reeled.

“Sweet Sage,” Alec exhaled, walking forward clumsily to make room on the platform for the next travelers.

“I’m, like, made of goosebumps right now. They won’t go away!” Jace said, holding up his forearm as proof. All of the thin hairs were standing on end.

“Are you all right, Alec?” Isabelle asked, coming over to them.

“I… am,” Alec said, slowly. Isabelle and Magnus were both watching him with concern, but it hadn’t been anything like he expected. He’d been picturing the ether deconstructing him piece by piece, leaving him mixed up and scrambled afterwards. The actuality of it, the sensation of complete emptiness, had been like the pinnacle of a profound meditation. “That was… amazing,” he finally said, smiling and shaking his head.

“Quite invigorating,” Magnus agreed, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go.

Alec finally took in their surroundings, eyes widening. The high-ceilinged building was metal as far as the eye could see: chrome floors, iron railings to organize the lines of passengers, dark steel walls. The clothing here seemed monochrome and drab after their time amongst the vibrantly-dressed Villagers, mostly black, gray, and white, with the occasional appearance of dark red or slate blue.

“Welcome to the Empire,” Isabelle said as they looked around, reaching out and trailing her fingers over one of the railings.

They followed written signs through the station to find an office at the front where they could get some information. They were planning to get as far as they could today, and Isabelle said that they’d most likely have to switch to the metal pipe system that ran through the nation to get to the next city.

Isabelle took the lead during the conversation; she had some Han friends that she kept in touch with through lightstreams, and had the best command of the language out of the three of them. Alec and Jace had learned conversational standard Han as part of their studies, because they occasionally hosted Han visitors who wished to learn about the path, but they got very little practice.

They discovered that Magnus was relatively fluent and had a large vocabulary. The language must have changed significantly since their time, though, because the words they used were so archaic and pronounced with such an odd accent that they were almost unintelligible, even to Alec’s untrained ears.

“My classic Han is far more elegant than all these slurred syllables and choppy tones they’re using now,” Magnus said with a delicate sniff and their head held high, and Alec smiled to himself, reminded of one of the cats that lived at their monastery. Whenever she someone had offended her sensibilities she got the exact same look, down to the proudly raised chin.

The pipe ride would be three hours. It quickly zoomed along the edges of the large metropolis, a vision of towering metal buildings glinting in the sunlight, the street filled with small sleek metal transportation pods, the sidewalks in certain areas overflowing with hurried pedestrians. After about twenty minutes, they left behind the city and cutting through the less densely populated Han suburbs with occasional swaths of nature.

“And what did she think of your last aim?” Magnus asked Isabelle. The pipe was relatively empty, so Magnus was lounging across two of the curved steel seats, one of their legs drawn up to their side, resting their elbow on their knee.

“She said she feels the same way,” Isabelle said, her expression uncharacteristically shy. “I’m so glad I finally told her, and stopped beating around the bush.”

“How marvelous, peach,” Magnus said, their smile genuine and warm. “What will you do next?”

“Wait, you two are…?” Alec started, but then realized he didn’t know how to finish. He’d clearly missed something.

“Our link is romantic, now,” Isabelle said, tucking her hair behind her ear, still smiling like she couldn’t seem to stop. “So when I’m back home, we’re going to give it a try.”

Alec frowned, confused. “What about her next vows?” He didn’t know Clary well, but he knew that she was a devoted novice and would be ordained soon.

Isabelle shrugged. “We haven’t really figured it out.”

Alec felt his frown deepen, and sensed from the way Magnus’s eyes were fixed on him that Magnus wasn’t pleased with him, but he really didn’t understand.

“But isn’t that, I don’t know,” Alec tapped the tips of his fingers together, “important?”

“Not really. If she wants to take that vow, we’ll figure it out. And if she doesn’t, well…” Isabelle grinned, looking over and winking at Magnus. “I’m not going to be complaining.”

 _But how can Clary even consider that?_ Alec wanted to ask, but was starting to feel pinned by Magnus’s eyes and restrained himself. Clary didn’t seem like the type to pick and choose vows like some of the more worldly novices were doing in recent years. And even if she did take the vow and they kept their relationship nonsexual, having a romantic link was an attachment, a distraction. How could Clary possibly reconcile that?

Isabelle and Magnus started strategizing the contents of her next message. Alec stayed quiet, tapping the cool metal of his armrest, his thoughts making him uneasy.

At the next pipe hub, they looked at the schedule and calculated that they had enough time to get to the next city on their itinerary before calling it a day. The next pipe ride was going to be another three hours long, so they purchased a meal at the hub to eat on the way. Alec was stunned at the exorbitant prices and picked out the cheapest items he could find.

He realized that without Magnus’s gambling they would have been hard-pressed to make their way across this nation. Daoism and buddhism had a very small presence here -- he hadn’t seen another practitioner since they’d arrived -- and Isabelle said that begging alms in the street was actually illegal in most large cities. Yet another way that they needed Magnus, when Alec had been so certain in the beginning that their presence would be a bad influence.

When he unwrapped his lunch, he thought of the dream the Sage had sent him. This was a prime example of lunwui’s deceptive pleasures: food. It satisfied only momentarily, but in excess, caused more suffering. The bean pastry he’d bought was exactly the kind of thing that a pleasure-seeker would want. It looked sugary, rich, and the light scent of citrus wafted up to his nose when he opened the bag.

Alec pulled his legs up to sit properly, and breathed slowly, deciding to turn the meal into an opportunity for insight. His mind slowly began to quiet as he focused his concentration on the pastry, allowing the noise of his surroundings fade away. When he felt his mind come to rest, he brought forth the questions, investigating the sensations as they arose.

Did he feel any pleasure looking at it? No, in fact, the opposite. He would have preferred a plain steamed pastry, like the one Magnus had given him for breakfast.

Did he feel any pleasure as he bit into it? No, it felt sticky on his tongue, and the flavor was far too strong, almost cloying.

Did he feel any pleasure when he thought about eating more? No, he’d prefer to fast the rest of the day than finish it.

Alec repeated the process with a few more bites, but it was the same each time. He gave the rest of the half-finished pastry to Jace, a little disappointed that he hadn’t gained insight into anything new. He’d have to try again later.

* * *

“We’re going to begin with a breathing exercise,” Magnus said, sitting cross-legged on the small, round stones that covered most of the garden. The carefully-pruned maples and bamboo interspersed along the edges of the area cast weak shadows in the late afternoon light. A few other guests at the inn were using other parts of the garden, which luckily for Alec meant that everyone was staying fully clothed today.

Jace and Isabelle sat down across from Magnus. Alec hovered uncertainly, standing next to an iron bench. He excelled at breathing exercises, but wasn’t sure if Magnus would expect him to participate in everything if he did this.

“Join us, Alec,” Magnus said, sensing his hesitance. He nodded at the space next to Jace. “You can go back to observing anytime.”

Isabelle gave him an encouraging smile as he took his place next to Jace, and then they all copied Magnus’s posture, back straight and hands resting on the knees. Alec automatically began breathing through his belly, his body slipping into the practice without thought.

“Now typically, during the inhalation, the abdomen relaxes and expands.” Magnus said, miming the action as they spoke. They hovered their hand in the air in front of their belly button, pulling it outwards as they inhaled.

“For this exercise, we’re going to be doing the opposite,” Magnus said, and demonstrated by pushing their hand inwards as they inhaled again, pulling their abdomen in. “Drawing in as we inhale, and relaxing as we exhale.”

“That’s possible?” Isabelle said, watching with interest.

“Very,” Magnus said. “Newborns breathe this way, in fact.”

Alec found that surprising. What Magnus was describing sounded counterintuitive, almost unnatural, but if newborns did it then that couldn’t be true.

“And since I know the three of you are familiar with breathing exercises, I think we can combine the first and second part.” Magnus adjusted themself, moving to face to the side to the rest of them could see Magnus in profile. They hovered one hand in front of their abdomen, and the other behind their lower back. “When inhaling, we’ll be bringing in the abdomen, and also pulling in the lower back at the same time.”

“I feel like I’m about to get a whisper in my ear,” Jace said quietly to Alec, which made Alec smile. When Magdalena was teaching them breathing exercises as children, Magdalena had a tendency to sneak up on students. The students, usually deep in concentration, would jump out of their skin when Magdalena would suddenly whisper an instruction or correction in their ear. One of Magdalena’s favorite refrains was to remind them to breathe through their bellies instead of their lungs. Alec must have heard _fill your belly as you inhale_ dozens of times during his first year.

“You did get more than anyone else,” Alec whispered back, and Jace rolled his eyes.

Magnus wasn’t the type to whisper in ears, though, and observed each of them individually as they practiced. Isabelle’s shirt was form fitting, so they didn’t have any trouble seeing the position of her muscles as she tried. Jace had to awkwardly lift his robe.

Alec found himself strangely embarrassed when Magnus didn’t even ask him to lift his robe. He didn’t want to, and would have said no, and the way Magnus seemed to sense it without him saying anything was… unsettling. And when they moved on to the martial arts portion of the lesson, they didn’t invite Alec to join them the way they had with the breathing exercise, without him having to say anything. He observed the rest of the lesson quietly, biting his lip, watching Jace and Isabelle attack and block.

“We aren’t going to learn another move today?” Jace asked, after the tenth repetition of doing the same two attacks, which were matched with two blocks on Isabelle’s side.

“No,” Magnus said simply. “Two moves with the proper form and power are far more valuable than ten unskilled ones, little warrior.”

“Guess I’ll just have to get these perfect, then,” Jace said with a lopsided grin.

Magnus arched a brow but didn’t respond, and Jace set his jaw, executing his next attempt with more precision.

They wrapped up not long after that, and Magnus and Alec went back to the room they were sharing. They were staying at an inn on the outskirts of a fairly large city, and the buildings were similar to the city where they’d started the day: metal upon metal. Alec almost wished they had an excuse to stay outside in the garden longer. The steel walls had an oppressive air, like they were pressing in on him. Isabelle seemed fascinated with the architecture, constantly running her fingers along the metallic surfaces, but Alec didn’t have her affinity for the element.

“Would you consider learning some blocks?” Magnus asked, wiping their face off with a towel. “Strictly defensive moves.”

Alec went to sit down at the round chrome table in the corner, tapping an index finger on its cold surface. He understood the logic of what Magnus was saying -- there was nothing aggressive about defending himself, and it would be helpful to the other three if he had some sense of how to protect himself. He still found himself hesitating.

“Let’s circle back to that,” Magnus said before Alec could answer, tossing the towel behind their shoulder. They came to sit down in the other seat, leaned back, and crossed one leg over the other. “What was your least favorite part of the lessons at the monastery?”

“Getting knocked off my feet,” Alec blurted before he could think about it, and then looked down. He’d hated the sensation -- one minute, he’d be in control, and the next, he’d be flat on his back. Sometimes it was Jace standing over him with a triumphant smile, sometimes their instructor looking disappointed and shaking their head, or Aline, something like pity in her eyes.

“I see,” Magnus said, tapping a finger on the corner of their lips. “And if I promised that you could stay standing the entire time, would that be helpful?”

Alec looked up, blinking. The instructor at the monastery had found Alec’s constant hesitance tiresome, and their solution seemed to be having Jace knock it out of him at every possible opportunity. He’d just assumed all instructors were the same.

“We could… do that?” He asked quietly.

Magnus watched him steadily for a moment.

“We can go at your pace, young novice,” Magnus said, speaking each word with care. “All you have to do is tell me, and we can figure it out.”

“I…” Alec licked his lips, nodding. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Good,” Magnus said, voice warm. Then they pressed their lips together, like they were searching for words. “I realize this is a challenge for you. But I hope you understand that I prefer that you learn something, rather than quit and learn nothing, so we can adjust as needed.”

Alec saw the concern in Magnus’s eyes, heard the sincerity in their words, and felt himself relax.

“I understand,” Alec said, resolving that he would participate in the entire lesson tomorrow. “Thank you.”

They were quiet for a comfortable moment, Magnus tracing an idle pattern on the surface of the table, their fingertip leaving warm imprints on the cold metal.

“I could do the breathing,” Alec blurted too loudly out of nowhere, and cringed at himself. “I mean, you know, show you --” He gestured vaguely at his abdominal area. He would’ve been extremely uncomfortable lifting his robe in the garden with the crowd of people out there, but it was just the two of them now. And if he was going to be more serious about these lessons he needed to make sure his form was right.

There was an odd look in Magnus’s eyes, but it smoothed over so quickly Alec might have imagined it.

“Certainly,” Magnus said. They stood, going over to the bag they had dropped on their bed. It was knee-height, much higher and thicker than the minimalist bed mats they’d been sleeping on in the monasteries. They rummaged through their clothes for a moment, and then came back with a shirt.

“This should fit you,” they said, holding it out for Alec.

“Oh,” Alec said, taking it. “Right, good idea.” He should have thought of that; it was a more modest option than lifting up his robe and exposing his bare skin.

But when he went into the bathroom, shedding his prominent robe and slipping the shirt on, he realized that perhaps he had it all backwards. The shirt clung to him like a second skin, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. The incredibly soft fabric was a dark green color with hazy splashes of white that looked like light filtered through thick glass. The sleeves were a little high, leaving his wrists exposed, and his inner robe only went down to his mid-calf, leaving his ankles exposed. The cool air on his wrists and ankles made him feel strangely naked.

He walked out a little awkwardly, seeing that Magnus was already seated on the floor. Magnus looked up at him, the color in their eyes flashing when they saw him.

“I forgot about the sleeves,” Magnus said after a pause, looking away. “Maybe we can get you something in town tomorrow, before we board the next pipe.”

Alec sat down quickly, aware that he probably looked ridiculous. The sooner they finished, the sooner he could change back.

“Ready?” Magnus asked.

Alec nodded, taking a few normal breaths to bring his attention into his body. He sank in easily, and on his next inhale, he tried to perform the technique.

“Good,” Magnus murmured, leaning over and watching his front. “Keep going.”

Magnus leaned the other way, looking at Alec’s back. When they’d been practicing earlier, the breathing had warmed him up, but the effect was much stronger with Magnus’s gaze so intently focused on him.

“You’re moving your hips forward, just slightly,” Magnus said. “Keep it still, focusing on tightening the muscles of the lower back internally.”

Alec tried for the next five breaths, but he just couldn’t seem to get it. He was accustomed to holding those particular muscles in a stable position, not drawing them in.

“May I?” Magnus said in a low voice, holding their left hand up, gesturing to Alec’s back.

“Hai,” Alec said, and even though he knew what was coming, a shiver still went up his spine when he felt Magnus’s two fingers press against the muscles not far above his tailbone.

“Pull these muscles away from my fingers,” Magnus said, voice still low, almost rasping.

Alec let his eyes fall closed, all of his concentration effortlessly pooling into the points where Magnus was touching him. It took him another three breaths, but then he felt it, the contraction moving in the right direction.

“You’ve got it,” Magnus said so suddenly that Alec opened his eyes, starting. Magnus leaned back, brushing their hands together briskly in a gesture of completion. “Keep practicing that, and we’ll review tomorrow.”

They passed the rest of the evening quietly, Alec meditating and studying scripture, Magnus practicing what appeared to be a much more advanced breathing technique and reading their novel. Much later, after the lights were out, Alec brought his arm up to cover his eyes and was surprised to find the scent of Magnus’s shirt still lingering on his skin. He fell asleep chasing the faint aroma of sandalwood and rose petals.


	13. Subtle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They travel to the edge of the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just did not want to come together. Ah, well, on to the next. I am super excited to have cracked 40k words, though, since I usually fizzle out around 20k. Yay for progress!
> 
> bo ying = karma  
> deiyuk = hell

“Alec,” Jace whispered, sliding into the metal seat next to Alec. Magnus glanced up from their reading.

“What?” Alec said, without looking up from what he was doing.

“Is it gonna grow feet and walk away?” Jace asked in the same hushed tone, gesturing with his chin at the black sesame bun on the table. Alec had been contemplating it for the last fifteen minutes with a singular intensity.

Alec’s eyes rolling and he breathed in through his nose. “I _was_ doing an insight meditation,” Alec finally said, turning his baleful glance on Jace.

Magnus kept their eyes on their book, suppressing a smile.

“Aa-ah,” Jace said, giving a sage nod. “Insight into what?”

“Of how I still cling to lunwui’s pleasures,” Alec said.

“You?” Magnus found themself saying out of sheer surprise.

“But you wouldn’t touch lunwui’s pleasures with a ten-foot pole,” Jace said, equally confused. “You don’t even like for _me_ to touch them with a ten-foot pole.”

Alec shrugged, bringing his hands up onto the table and interlacing his fingers, the black sesame bun forgotten. “That’s what I thought, but I received guidance in a dream. It showed me that I’m clinging to… something. I just don’t know what.”

Magnus sighed internally. They hadn’t asked Alec about his dream, though they weren’t surprised to learn it was cryptic and confusing. Why should Gunyam bother being clear with their guidance, when they could be unnecessarily opaque and misleading instead?

“Well, it’s not that bun,” Jace said definitively, picking it up and taking a bite out of it. He continued talking as he chewed. “Nobody enjoys watching you eat one of these.”

Magnus couldn’t disagree -- watching Alec unhappily flinch his way through every bite of what was supposed to be a delicious treat was more than a little unpleasant.

“And by pleasures,” Magnus said, trying to tease out what they remembered of this concept. “We’re talking about enjoying anything worldly, right?”

“That’s right. The contaminated, impermanent happiness we experience can only be a momentary reprieve from the inherent suffering of lunwui,” Alec said.

“Salt water,” Jace whispered to Magnus out of the side of his mouth.

“And like drinking salt water,” Alec continued, shooting Jace a stern look. “The more we indulge in the contaminated happiness, the more of it we crave. We can never be satisfied.”

Alec’s placid and practiced recitation, the uncanny similarity in how he phrased the words -- it drew forth an answering memory from the in Magnus’s mind, the deja vu so powerful that for a moment Magnus tasted the sweet acidity on their tongue, felt the heat of the young sun soaking into their skin. _One bite is sensual joy_ , they heard the echo of her voice, saw the juice of the red pomegranate seed staining elegant fingertips, _but a thousand bites would be agony. How easily the pleasure becomes pain._

“You okay, Magnus?” Jace said, snapping them out of it. “You look like you saw a hungry gwai.”

“I’m fine,” Magnus said, reaching up and smoothing a hand down their chest, clearing their throat and pushing the memories away. They refocused on Alec, whose eyes were also concerned. “I believe I grasp the concept, and wholeheartedly agree with Jace that food clearly holds no sway over you. But there are a multitude of other worldly pleasures, aren’t there?”

“Well, some of the big ones are material objects, drinking, acquiring wealth, gambling,” Jace said, ticking off fingers as he listed. Then he waggled his eyebrows. “Pleasures of the flesh.”

They both glanced at Alec and broke out into laughter at the same time, shaking their heads.

“No-ope,” Jace said, still chuckling. “That’s not. No.”

“Pretty much,” Alec shrugged, agreeing with Jace’s assessment. “Those things all seemed like dead ends.”

“Quite the puzzle,” Magnus said, leaning back and fixing their eyes on Alec. Contemplatively, they studied his features: the soft lines of his lips, the dark arches of his eyebrows against his pale skin, the firm set of his shoulders. Everything about him projected containment, restraint, caution. This wasn’t a person who was going to be swayed easily.

“Maybe you interpreted the dream wrong?” Jace suggested.

“Or maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way,” Magnus said, a notion beginning form. Alec looked up, then, his hazel eyes attentive. Magnus leaned forward, unfurling their hand in Alec’s direction. “You’re not the average person, young novice. You’ve had years of training, developed the discipline to transcend pleasures some people spend their entire lives battling.”

Jace snapped his fingers and pointed at Alec, starting to nod. “Other novices are always coming to Alec with help for exactly this kind of stuff.”

“So whatever it is must be considered in the context of your considerable progress on the eightfold path,” Magnus said. “It’s not going to be something common or obvious.”

Alec tapped the tips of his two index fingers together, looking down at his hands for a moment before returning his gaze to Magnus’s.

“Something subtle, then,” Alec said slowly.

Something inside of Magnus relaxed at Alec’s easy acceptance of their assessment; they didn’t like to admit it, but his opinion was starting to matter to Magnus.

“That would be my instinct,” Magnus said. “Something easy to overlook, otherwise you would have already discovered it in your practice.”

“Perhaps I need to cultivate my observation outside of my practices,” Alec mused out loud, bringing his interlinked hands up and leaning his chin on his middle knuckles.

“Seems like you two have this covered,” Jace said, grinning for no apparent reason as he glanced between the two of them. He stood, going over to join Isabelle, sitting sideways and laying his legs over the tops of her thighs. She reached over without looking up from her book, ruffling his hair and then settling her hand on his knee.

“That seems like a good place to start,” Magnus said, responding to Alec’s earlier statement. “The key may be observing the emotional current in the moment that it occurs.”

Alec’s eyes went wide. “The current,” he repeated, giving Magnus an odd look.

Magnus twirled their fingers in the air, smiling a little. “That’s how I see it, yes. That emotions, like all things in the dao, have their own currents. An organic ebb and flow that we can learn to understand.”

Alec looked at Magnus intently, brows creating crease lines just above the bridge of his nose. The moment stretched so long that Magnus began to wonder if they’d inadvertently offended him, but then his features relaxed and his eyes cleared.

“That makes a lot of sense,” Alec said, then tilted his head. “Was that part of your daoist training?”

“It was,” Magnus said, shifting to bring one of their legs up into the seat next to them. “An extremely important part, for me.”

And Magnus could have easily left it at that, but Alec was watching them with that toidoi equanimity of his -- like Magnus could say anything and Alec would simply nod and smile. This side of Alec was making an appearance more and more often, and Magnus supposed they were weak after the prolonged isolation. They wanted Alec to keep looking at them that way.

“I found the dao at a… difficult time, in my life,” Magnus said, not quite able to meet Alec’s eyes. They glanced out the window at the stretch of plains that stretched into the distance. According to Isabelle, they were getting into the rural areas today, and the distance between the cities was growing larger. “I’d lost someone who was very important to me, and I was young. Out of control.”

Magnus raised a finger to the window, tracing an idle spiral on the glass. “If my Sifu hadn’t taught me how to manage those emotions…” Magnus sighed, that old pain still potent after all this time. “I’m not sure I would be alive today.”

By the time Magnus was able to bring their eyes back to meet Alec’s, the plains had transformed into farmland, but Alec hadn’t wavered. Magnus had been wrong, though; he wasn’t smiling and nodding.

His eyes were large, liquid, and there was a pinch to his features, a dark cloud marring his tranquility -- not pity, but something like recognition.

“I understand,” Alec said.

The words were quiet, unassuming. But there was an unshakable honesty in Alec’s voice, in his face, and it pierced Magnus, leaving them to inhale shakily, unprepared for how exposed they felt caught in those eyes.

“So I see,” Magnus said once they’d composed themself, smiling a little sadly. They would have preferred not to share this common ground with Alec, but there was a strange comfort in discovering that they were standing here together.

They watched the farmland pass them by, a comfortable, spacious silence enveloping them both.

* * *

“I think -- that bun -- is coming back -- up,” Jace bounced out, holding onto the front of the seat in front of him for dear life, his jaw _clacking_ shut every few seconds because of the increasingly bumpy terrain. The capsule they were in was a rather rickety affair, the only method of transportation available to reach the small rural outpost that bordered the forest they were trying to reach. Jace was twisted around to look back at them, his complexion wan.

“Look at me,” Isabelle said firmly, reaching out and taking Jace’s chin in her hands. He complied, and they locked into a stare. Magnus observed with interest, fascinated by the way their bond worked. Jace visibly relaxed as they maintained eye contact, the color in his face mostly returning to normal.

“Thanks, A-belle,” he said, rubbing his hand over his face. “That was close.”

“Did you heal him?” Magnus asked Isabelle. Their own healing abilities weren’t doing them any good because their ether currents were still blocked, but they were always interested to observe different healing modalities.

“No, I shared and dissipated it with him, to make it less intense,” Isabelle said, patting her stomach with a slight grimace. “But I’m definitely going to be skipping lunch.”

Magnus’s lips parted, but they found themself unsure how to phrase their question. Jace was in pain, and she simply took half of it, like it was the most normal thing in the world? The casual selflessness and intimacy of the behavior stunned them. They’d never considered how deep the soul link between joined obviously went.

“All joined do this for each other?” Magnus finally said, trying to determine if they were the rule or the exception.

“It’s not, like, required,” Jace said, pushing his bottom lip out as he considered the question. “But more often than not, yeah.”

“And Jace definitely does the same for me,” Isabelle said.

“Do I ever,” Jace said, raising an eyebrow. “The first day of her flow is rough, pang.”

“Oh, Jace,” Isabelle said, rolling her eyes. “If I ever give birth, you’re going to be crying like a baby way before they’re born.”

“ _I’m not ready_ ,” Jace hissed at Magnus, and Magnus laughed at the overly exaggerated look of horror that Jace put on. Despite their banter, Magnus could tell that Jace would be at her side for every minute.

“But you two would also share the joy of the experience?” Magnus said. “Or just the pain?”

Isabelle smiled. “Both. Pain, we dissipate between us, but the good things we can amplify. It’s like we… reflect it back to each other.”

She and Jace shared a soft look, some sweet unspoken recollections passing between them.

“Half the pain, twice the happiness?” Magnus said, quirking their mouth. “I’m finally beginning to understand why you mortals value these bonds so much.”

“I can’t imagine my life without our bond,” Jace said, his expression going tight and uncomfortable as he said it. It spoke to how deeply he meant it, that even speaking the possibility into existence seemed to shake him. “I wouldn’t want to.”

Isabelle reached out, putting a hand over his. “Me neither,” she said, squeezing his fingers in her own.

Then, as if belatedly realizing what they were speaking about, their glances gravitated towards Alec, who was standing near the front of the capsule, holding onto the railing that came off the ceiling. He was far enough away that he likely couldn’t hear them unless he tried, but he was looking steadily out the window.

“I’m glad he got to meet you and Ambrose,” Isabelle said quietly, and then broke her gaze away to look at Magnus. “You’re the only other unjoined we’ve ever known.”

Magnus was taken aback. They’d known that Alec’s state was rare, but they hadn’t realized to what degree. How different would his life have been, if he’d had someone else there, to help him carry the pain of losing his family, to reflect his joy back to him?

Instead, he’d battled his way through the darkness on his own, living every day in a world full of people who had what he never could. Surrounded on all sides by reminders of what should have been his birthright.

“That’s…” Magnus sighed. “No one should ever have to be that alone.”

Alec, perhaps sensing Magnus’s attention, turned and met their gaze. His expression was calm, a slight smile pulling at his lips when he met Magnus’s eyes.

And maybe that was why he’d wanted Magnus to hold his hands in the dark, trembling in the aftermath of his dream. Maybe that’s why he’d looked at Magnus with such a strange, unexpected tenderness as he held those prayer beads in his hand, and Magnus had been forced to turn away from the pull of of him, afraid they’d do something foolish.

Alec had finally found someone else who was like him. Of course he wanted to have something like what Isabelle and Jace had, even if was only a fraction of what they shared.

“Well,” Magnus said, returning Alec’s tentative smile, speaking to Isabelle softly. “He’s not alone anymore. I’m here now.”

They looked into Alec’s eyes, the deep hazel that encompassed all of Alec’s contradictions -- his kindness, his prickliness, his fortitude and fear -- and knew that there was no more point in deluding themself.

They weren’t leaving the group, hadn’t truly wanted to for some time now. And if staying by Alec’s side meant traversing the entire Western Reach and finding Gunyam’s worthless scrolls, so be it.

* * *

“Bless the Sage,” Isabelle said when the outpost finally appeared ahead of them, leaning her head against Magnus’s shoulder in sheer exhaustion. The deeper they’d gotten into the mountain, the more treacherous the ride had become, alternating between an excruciating crawl up steep, bumpy hills and then sudden careening drops that left them all feeling like their stomachs were in their throats.

“I wonder who decided that living in the middle of literally nowhere would be a good idea,” Jace grumbled, trying to re-do his disheveled top knot without much success.

“They didn’t have much choice, originally,” Isabelle said. “The monarchy chose this site for an extraction outpost. The village grew up around it over time.”

“Yeah, well.” Jace gave up, leaving his bun in a messy bird’s nest and blowing a strand of wayward hair out of his face. “I know the Han are all-metal-all-the-time, but someone needs to introduce these people to the concept of an airsleeve.”

The buildings in the outpost were a mixture of styles: wood roundhouses, clay domes emerging from the soil, even a few pale stone structures, the sun bouncing off the bright limestone. The craftingship was rustic, unlike the precise, seamless metal structures that had characterized most of the Han cities they passed through. According to Isabelle, most of the metal and minerals extracted were sent into the interior of the nation, leaving the residents to work with the materials the mountain provided.

The driver directed them to the inn, which was set of wooden roundhouses laid out around a courtyard. Magnus grabbed the bags and Alec stayed behind to finalize payment with the driver. Isabelle and Jace went to find their room, agreeing that they’d come find Alec and Magnus after getting cleaned up and settled in.

“And would you and your joined prefer one bed, or two?” The clerk asked just as Alec joined Magnus in the office. He looked wrung out; his damp, sweaty robe was clinging to him and strips of his dark hair were plastered against his forehead.

Instead of shuttering closed and going glacial, Alec’s reaction went a different direction this time: a scarlet flush bloomed on his cheeks, spreading like wildfire down his neck, and his face hovered in an uncertain space, like his features couldn’t find an appropriate configuration.

“Two will be fine,” Magnus said smoothly, filling the uneasy silence, and by the time they finished paying Alec’s color had calmed, leaving behind two fading pale rosy smudges along his cheekbones.

As they walked to the room, Alec started to speak twice, inhaling uncertainly before glancing away again, discarding the unformed words. Magnus waited, trusting their sense that Alec needed this struggle, to begin finding his way around this aspect of himself.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, breaking through on the third try, burying his gaze in the crisply folded robes inside his open bag.

Magnus perched on the edge of the bed, angling their body halfway towards Alec. Normally they’d be inclined to hop up and spread out, stretching luxuriously across the sheets, but they didn’t want to break the quiet bubble of the moment.

“I’m aware. Outside of exceedingly rare circumstances --” _Such as the one I’m in right now,_ they didn’t add, “-- I do as I please.”

Alec breathed once, audibly, the long line of his back slumping on the exhale.

“You don’t owe every stranger on the street your life story,” Magnus said, their fingers itching to reach out and rest underneath Alec’s chin, to draw his eyes up to meet Magnus’s. To do some small part to convince him that he was worth being seen. “I’m happy to let them think what they want.”

“I can’t --” Alec walked to the foot of his bed, sitting heavily, hands clasped tightly in his lap. “I don’t want to lie.”

“Of course,” Magnus said carefully, scenting victory and treading with precision. “If anyone asks, we answer honestly.”

Alec was quiet for a long moment, and Magnus tried to anticipate what other objections he might raise, but then he turned, glancing over his shoulder at Magnus.

“Isabelle said that you’re…” Alec’s teeth tugged at the corner of his lower lip, “unjoined. Like me.”

His voice was painfully hesitant, like he was afraid of offending Magnus just by daring to say the word out loud.

“That’s right,” Magnus said. They smiled a little, tracing their fingers over the swirling pattern stitched into the blanket. “The circumstances of my birth were rather unique, and joining was never an option for me.”

Alec’s eyes widened, and he turned to face Magnus more fully, drawn in despite himself. “You never had a kai wan ceremony?”

Magnus shook their head. “I’ve never even seen one.” The closest they’d come was witnessing some post-ceremony celebratory processions in the streets; the rite of passage marking a successful joining was celebrated with the same zeal as weddings and births.

“I had fourteen,” Alec said, lips curling mirthlessly.

Magnus wanted to reach out, place their palm in the small of Alec’s back, the gesture of comfort that still came naturally to them.

But despite the facade that Alec seemed to be reluctantly sliding into with them, they weren’t actually joined. They couldn’t sense Alec’s thoughts, or emotions, or his spirit; they couldn’t know what he needed or wanted. They could only try to bridge the distance with the rope of their words and intentions, and hope it was enough.

“That must have been very hard,” Magnus said. “Doing that year after year.” They stood, going to sit at the foot of their own bed, placing themself within arm’s reach of Alec.

“It was -- it is -- my bo ying.” Alec shrugged, shaking his head. “I created this result through my actions in past lives.”

Magnus looked skyward for a moment, closing their eyes. _Do all your followers use your teachings to torture themselves?_ Magnus thought angrily, even though they knew it wasn’t the case. Alec was clearly the type to find a way to shift any teaching into another way to deny himself.

“Bo ying can be a teacher, yes,” Magnus said. “But that doesn’t mean that the harsh lessons aren’t painful. It doesn’t mean that it didn’t affect you.”

Magnus slowly and tentatively extended their tail, softly curling it along the length Alec’s shoulders, giving him time to move away from the touch if he wanted to. His muscles jumped where Magnus made contact, but eased just as quickly, the tension dissipating before fully cohering.

Alec looked at them, expression troubled and uncertain, as if Magnus were a puzzle he couldn’t piece together. But then his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, sharp and astute. “Like the mountain affected you?”

Magnus couldn’t help but smile ruefully at that, cornered by their own logic. “Oh, well-played, young novice.”

“It must have been hard,” Alec said, repeating Magnus’s words gently.

Magnus’s smile faded, and they let their tail drift off of Alec’s shoulders, settling into a small spiral on the bed next to his wrist.

“I’m sorry --” Alec looked down at his hand. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Magnus said, inching their tail forward to twine over one of Alec’s splayed fingers. It was only fair, really; if they wanted Alec’s trust, they had to be willing to grant him theirs, as well. “I… wouldn’t know where to begin, to tell you the truth.”

Alec’s finger curled around their tail, stroking along their fur with the pad of his finger.

“The best way that I can describe it…” Magnus felt the darkness edging into their voice, the eldritch echo. “Some time into my imprisonment, I begged them to send me to the deiyuk realms.”

Magnus swallowed thickly before continuing, the inside of their mouth turning bitter. “The relentless solitude, it… was smothering. Pitiless. It consumed me.”

“Sweet Sage,” Alec breathed, eyes shell-shocked.

Magnus flinched at her title, at the memory of how she’d stood before them, not even hairline a crack in her flawless perfection, before she ended their life as they knew it.

“They couldn’t send me there, though. I knew my pleading was futile even as I did it. I would have escaped, you see. Even the deepest realm of deiyuk couldn’t hold me.” Magnus laughed, a tangled, thorny vine of a sound. “I was entirely too powerful for my own good.”

“I --”

Alec was cut off by a knock at the door, and he jumped at the sound, putting nearly a foot of distance between them in a second.

“You guys decent?” Jace asked, knocking again as he spoke. “Isabelle and I want to grab some food and scope out the forest.”

“Come in!” Magnus called, giving Alec a small half-smile before the door opened, and Alec returned it with a nod, a silent acknowledgment between them of the weight of the topics they’d been discussing.

They went to grab a quick dinner at the one eatery the outpost offered. A lot of the dishes were similar to what they’d eaten on the way here, like the cracked peppercorn daufu, stuffed eggplant, and chile-infused sauces. But there was a touch of the sylvan wilderness in some of the plates, like the pine needle soup and a plate that consisted of wilted tree vines which were at once crunchy and slippery. Magnus also found the candied red flower petals sprinkled over quince jelly worth savoring.

After dinner, they walked to the edge of the town where the forest would be visible, to get an idea of the next leg of the journey.

“Well, that’s… big,” Jace said, holding his hand up at his eyebrows and scanning the horizon. The pine and spruce trees were dense across the valley, the far borders out of sight from this position.

“It’s beautiful,” Isabelle said, inhaling the air deeply. “I can’t wait to stretch my legs.” Magnus wondered if she meant in her wolf form -- they’d noticed some spirit beings wearing their animal forms in the cities, but Isabelle hadn’t done so once.

Magnus supposed it was also time for them to find out if their leopard form was still available to them or not. They’d been avoiding trying, because if they weren’t able to transform, it would be painfully disappointing. Their leopard form was an integral part of their being, and slipping back into it should be like a second skin.

Though they were making some progress on revitalizing their elemental channels while the others slept, so perhaps it was just a matter of time and patience. Patience had never been their strong suit.

“There’s a potent energy here,” Magnus said, sending energy to their fo ngaan to survey the land. Forests were usually infused with green, brown, and blue energies, but this one was also alive with electric reds, deep purples, and glittering yellows. “It’s most likely saturated into the land because of the presence of the entrance. The yiugwai here may be stronger than the ones we encountered before.”

“I’ll be ready for them,” Jace said, narrowing his eyes as he looked out.

Magnus laid a hand on Jace’s shoulder, appreciating his enthusiasm even though they had their doubts. Their journey had been mere child’s play up to this point, and Magnus knew that the closer they got to the entrance, the quicker that was going to change.


	14. Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus trains Jace and Alec, and has a conversation with Isabelle.

“Well, I’m sorry that you’ve wasted your time, but I’m no wilderness guide,” Mohinder said, leaning over one of the many strange contraptions that filled the table in front of them. The shelves along the walls were filled with more mysterious devices, thick books, jars filled with unidentifiable substances and energies, and perfectly preserved plant specimens inside translucent spheres.

Mohinder minutely adjusted one of a dozen bronze filaments that emanated from a glowing white center, eyes fixed on how the light changed as they did so. “The time I spend in the forest is for my studies, and I’ve certainly never led a group excursion.”

“We can pay,” Jace said, reaching out to touch a very precarious-looking tower of chrome balls, which stayed upright despite no visible means of support. Magnus silently intercepted him, stopping him with two fingers on his wrist.

“I appreciate the offer,” Mohinder said, looking up and shrugging. “I’m afraid that I’m not qualified, though.”

Isabelle approached the table, leaning her hip against it.

“Maybe you could give us some pointers? They told us that no one knows the forest better than you do,” Isabelle said, flashing him one of her sweetest smiles.

“Oh, well,” Mohinder said, a little bashfully. They turned their attention back to the device, thin fingers bending one of the filaments into a different position. “I suppose that’s true. Do you know where you’re heading?”

“The caves at the base of White Jade Mountain,” Alec said. He was hanging back, standing near the doorway, surveying the curiosities in the room with a wary curiosity.

Mohinder looked up at Alec sharply, brows snapping together. “What’s your interest in the caves?”

Alec glanced at Magnus, then, seeming to be seeking their input about whether he should reveal the full extent of what they were doing here. Magnus ignored the sweet flare in their chest, tamping it down, and gave him a small nod. Magnus’s intuition told them that Mohinder was trustworthy.

“We’re on a pilgrimage, looking for the entrance to the Western Reach,” Alec said. “We were told we could find it in those caves.”

Mohinder’s eyes widened and they straightened up, taking two steps toward Alec, their device completely forgotten.

“ _That’s_ where the entrance is?” Mohinder said, running their thin, elegant fingers through their dark curls. They began pacing, speaking to themself more than Alec. “I thought those readings were strange. I’ve been wasting so much time at the eastern border.”

“So we were told by a reliable source,” Magnus said, and without turning their head, pinched the back of Jace’s collar when he leaned too close for comfort to swirling mercury, which was somehow contained in the shape of a dragon’s claw. The silvery metal was moving in distracting, undulating patterns.

“We can take you to the caves,” Mohinder said, stopping mid-pace and looking at Magnus, their demeanor suddenly electric with excitement, a smile full of white teeth lighting up their face. “No payment necessary.”

“That’s… generous,” Magnus said mildly, raising an eyebrow at the sudden pivot. “Who is ‘we’?”

“Oh, right, of course,” Mohinder said, exhaling a laugh. “I’m just -- I can’t believe -- pardon me. Let me introduce you.”

They walked over to another doorway, one that led further into the house. “Kalinda, darling, can you come?” They leaned in and called out.

“My joined,” Mohinder explained breathlessly. “We’ve been searching for the entrance for years, you see.”

“You _want_ to go to the Western Reach?” Isabelle said, frowning. “Everyone we meet keeps telling us how dangerous it is.”

“And we just wanted a guide,” Alec said, frowning. “We aren’t looking to add to our group.”

Just then, Mohinder’s joined entered the room, slipping in silently as a shadow. Mohinder held a hand out, introducing them. “This is Kalinda, she goes by ‘she.’ Kalinda, they have some very promising information about where we might find the entrance.”

“Really,” she stated in an uninflected, measured voice. Her eyes scanned over them clinically, revealing nothing.

Magnus was finding this more and more curious by the moment -- Mohinder and Kalinda, by their accents and appearances, were obviously from the Hundred Villages. Mohinder was tall and lanky, where Kalinda was compact, toned, and curved. She wore black from head to toe, and where Mohinder was a friendly open book, she was a locked leatherbound volume, nothing visible except her title.

“And what are you two looking for,” Magnus said, running the tip of their claw over the tabletop as they took a step closer to Mohinder, “that’s worth spending years of your life searching?”

“It’s for my studies, of course,” Mohinder said, a touch too quickly. Kalinda simply pressed her lips together. “As I was saying, that’s why I’ve spent time in the forest. I’m an elemental scientist, and elementally-unique geographical regions provide a boon of data that I can’t find anywhere else. The Western Reach would be unlike anything I’ve ever studied.”

“That it would,” Magnus said quietly, suspecting that Mohinder couldn’t imagine the half of it. “But as Alec said, we aren’t looking to expand our membership.”

“We’ll split up once we’re there,” Kalinda said, eyeing Magnus steadily. “We have a specific destination in mind.”

“Also, we’re going to have yiugwai breathing down our necks in the forest,” Jace said, twirling something in his fingers that he probably shouldn’t have picked up. “We kinda forgot to mention that part.”

“Yes,” Mohinder said, nodding. “We’ve had some encounters. They’re strangely active in this forest.”

“Well,” Isabelle said, looking at Alec, Magnus, and then Jace. “Maybe this is a win-win? They take us to the caves, we take them to the Western Reach.”

“You know I’m always ready for group adventure-ing,” Jace said, grinning at her.

Alec shrugged. “All right,” he said.

Magnus extended one of their hands with a flourish. “Welcome to the next leg of our ragtag pilgrimage, then,” they said, giving them both one of their more charming smiles, which only Mohinder returned.

* * *

“For the next three repetitions, I want you hit me with real force,” Magnus told Jace, standing in the defensive posture, ready to block Jace’s attack. “And we’re going to see how it affects your control of the form.”

Alec and Isabelle were out shopping for the supplies from the list that Mohinder had given them. Mohinder wouldn’t be ready to go until the morning after next -- they apparently had a number of experiments that were in “delicate stages” and needed to be properly contained before they could leave. Magnus had decided to take the extra time to train with each of them one on one to identify their specific strengths and weaknesses.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jace said, and he appeared genuinely worried. He pulled at the collar of the shirt they’d purchased for these sessions, a light fabric with a close fit that allowed Magnus to evaluate his movements much more easily than the thickly-layered robes he normally wore.

Magnus managed to contain their laugh to the back of their throat. “You concern is touching, young warrior, but wholly unnecessary.”

Jace shrugged, accepting it easily. “Hai hai, Sifu.” Jace breathed in and then surged forward, focus intent on Magnus. The title surprised Magnus, almost throwing the balance of their back leg off when Jace finally made contact.

The part of Magnus’s mind that kept running in the background catalogued four areas where Jace needed to strengthen his muscles to be able to hold the form correctly. They also saw that Jace had an inherent sense of his own physicality and there was an obvious thrill in his eyes every time they engaged, something that lit up inside of him which reminded Magnus of themself. There was a certain wildness underneath Jace’s amiable exterior, which Magnus was guessing hadn’t been particularly encouraged in the monastery environment.

“Well done,” Magnus said after the third time. “Let’s see how your arms held up.”

There was some redness and tenderness where Jace’s arm had slammed against Magnus’s, and there’d likely be some light bruising tomorrow, but nothing that would prevent him from continuing to train. Magnus had felt their ether currents crackling incredibly close to the surface last night, though, and couldn’t resist the chance to see if their elemental power was returning.

“My ether element allows me to take pain,” Magnus said, gesturing at the red lines on Jace’s skin. “May I?”

Jace leaned in, his eyes peeling open and eyebrows climbing, voice dropping to a hush. “Is my arm going to disappear?”

“Nothing so dramatic,” Magnus said, smiling. “You may feel a cool tingle.”

“Oh,” Jace said, clearly disappointed that his arm wasn’t going to dematerialize into the void. “Okay, then.”

Magnus reached out, laying a fingertip against the area they were going to work on. In the past, they’d been able to do this with nothing more than a thought, but even though the energy felt within reach, it was still nothing more than a trickle, like drops of water squeezing past a tightly-packed dam.

Magnus breathed in, sending a soft thought to the trickle, leading it with their intention out through the fingertip that was touching Jace’s skin. It was frustratingly slow, but finally, they felt it as they passed through the barrier of Jace’s skin, energy seeping into the fibers, fascia, muscle, and fat. The pain was the fresh, fluid type -- it hadn’t begun to darken and stagnate, still a free-floating light gray cloud.

Magnus began to siphon it off, drawing it into their sliver of ether until it was about halfway gone. Magnus opted not to remove the pain entirely, so that Jace wouldn’t accidentally re-bruise the area, which could easily happen if he had no reason to treat the area with extra care. Magnus was only able to remove blockages or pain; they couldn’t re-knit muscle or speed regeneration, so the area would still need to repair naturally.

“There we go,” Magnus said, drawing back. They shook their head slightly to clear it; the meager effort had cost them more than would have liked.

“Baau po dik,” Jace said with a grin, flexing his hand. He inclined his head. “It feels way better. Thank you, Sifu.”

“Not that I mind, precisely,” Magnus said. “But why are you calling me that?”

“Oh, eyeshit,” Jace went from grinning to mildly panicked in a flash. “I was supposed to ask your permission, wasn’t I? I’m sorry, Sifu -- I mean, uh, _not_ Sifu --”

Magnus held up a hand, forestalling him. “Technically, yes, but as I said, I don’t mind. But it’s not necessary for a few rudimentary lessons.”

“We-ell,” Jace said, angling his head, face going puppy-dog eager. “I was hoping you’d be willing to teach me more than a few lessons. Maybe… I could even be your disciple?”

Magnus’s first reaction was to snap -- discipleship wasn’t something done on a whim, some fun diversion. But the tip of Jace’s shoe was twisting in the grass, and the longer Magnus stayed silent, the more apparent his nervousness became. He might not understand the true gravity of what he was saying, but this wasn’t a joke to him, either.

“I think you’ve been reading too many sinhap novels, young warrior,” Magnus said, placing a hand on Jace’s shoulders. “Being a disciple is a lifetime commitment. It’s a lifestyle, not a shortcut to learning martial arts.”

Jace’s face fell, collapsing like a flower wilting in the sun.

“That said,” Magnus said, squeezing Jace’s shoulder. “I’m happy to take you on as a regular student for as long as we’re on this pilgrimage, and to teach you some more advanced techniques.”

Jace instantly sprang back to life, clasping his hands at his chest and bowing repeatedly. “Thank you, Sifu! I’ll be the best student you’ve ever had, I swear.”

“Considering that you’re the _only_ student I’ve ever had, I’m sure that you will,” Magnus said with a laugh, putting a hand on Jace’s shoulders to stop his bowing.

They finished up the lesson by giving Jace some exercises to do on his own this evening, to begin strengthening the weak points in his musculature, which could only be achieved with time and consistency. And though they wouldn’t tell him as much (the boy had entirely too much confidence for his own good already), they sensed a surprising amount of potential in him. Perhaps the teasing nickname they’d given him wasn’t so far off, after all.

* * *

“The instinct to flinch is very natural,” Magnus said, stepping back from the attack. “But you’re going to need to work on keeping your eyes on your attacker. You can’t lose track of where they are, even for a few seconds.”

“I understand,” Alec said, nodding gravely.

“So, for now, just leave your arm in the position.” Magnus said, gesturing for Alec to raise his arm into the block again. And for all that Alec had resisted trying this, his proprioception was excellent and he was clearly already more comfortable as he sank smoothly into the pose than he’d been yesterday. “And just try to keep your eyes open when I come at you, even if your body pulls back. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

“Hai,” Alec nodded. He took a few breaths and sank more fully into his stance, his demeanor calm but grim.

Magnus surged forward at a speed that the average yiugwai would use, faster than a typical mortal but slower than Magnus at their best. Alec’s body recoiled instinctively as Magnus came forward, but Alec seemed to use every ounce of his willpower to keep his eyes locked with Magnus’s. When Magnus’s forearm made contact, Alec’s eyes were still open, but his chest was rising and falling rapidly with the effort.

They were standing close enough that Magnus could feel the heat of Alec’s breath on their cheek, catch a faint whiff of the jasmine luk cha they’d had with lunch. Magnus could see the prayer beads they’d bought him nestled against his neck, the translucent blue beautiful against his flushed pale skin.

Alec’s lips parted and his pupils dilated, and Magnus thoughtlessly leaned in, caught in the pull of Alec’s gravity, magnetically drawn to the point where the tip of Alec’s tongue was sliding over his bottom lip.

And then Alec’s breath hitched, a nervous stutter, and reality crashed over Magnus like being doused in ice water. What in the deiyuk were they thinking? They stumbled back a few steps, movements ungainly, and brushed their hands over their shirt needlessly.

“Just like that,” Magnus said, flashing a smile. “You did very well. We can try that again tomorrow.”

Alec’s fingers were tapping against the sides of his thighs, and there was a slight flush in his cheeks. He opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly, swallowing audibly.

“Okay,” he finally said, voice just a bit hoarse.

And for a traitorous second, Magnus almost thought that Alec might --

No. He didn’t, and even if by some miracle he did, Magnus knew it was a pointless, foolish hope to open their heart to a practitioner who had their eyes set on nippun. They’d had plenty of time to learn from their mistakes and had no intention of repeating them.

“For our last exercise,” Magnus said, bringing themself back to the role of detached instructor. “I’m going to teach you an isometric method of strengthening your legs that you can do while walking. You have a good sense of how to isolate particular muscles, so I think you’ll do well with this.”

Alec was quieter than normal as they finished up, and Magnus hoped that their momentary lapse hadn’t been too transparent.

As they watched Alec walk back to the room their shared room, they resolved that they’d be more careful from now on.

* * *

“Do you think this ether-infused bag will work in the Western Reach, Magnus?” Isabelle asked, holding up one of the day’s purchases. She’d been showing them some of the all-weather clothing she’d purchased, which they’d be needing to weather the extremes of the Western Reach. Magnus wasn’t sure how far into the realm they’d need to go, but they could go from desert to snow in the span of a day’s walk.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t say, peach,” Magnus said, fingering the furry collar of a plush jacket she’d gotten them. “That type of infusion didn’t exist in my time, and I didn’t think to ask Ambrose.”

“Hm. I guess I’ll find out when we’re there.” Isabelle shrugged, setting it aside. She wrapped a black scarf around her neck and went to look at herself in the mirror. “But our elemental abilities will definitely be affected, right?”

“That’s right,” Magnus said. They examined a pair of dark red gloves, next, absolutely enamored with the beautiful metallic threads woven in serpentine patterns through the fabric. “There will be regions where your abilities will be stronger, others where they’ll be weaker, and some places where…”

Magnus twirled their fingers in the air, trying to encompass the particular upside-down sensation they remembered feeling. “All the rules will go out the window.”

Isabelle glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued.”

Magnus watched her as she traded the scarf for a waterproof hat and jacket, turning, almost twirling, as she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

“You’ve been enjoying this journey, haven’t you?” Magnus said, realizing it aloud as they asked. They’d been so focused on their own miserable predicament that it was taking them some time to recognize the others didn’t automatically feel the same way.

Isabelle nodded, snuggling into the hood of the jacket with a small smile. “I’ve been dreaming of visiting faraway places for so long, Magnus,” she sighed, shaking her head a little, wonderingly. “And it’s so much better than I thought it would be.”

They leaned their cheek on their fist as they looked at her, charmed. “What’s been your favorite part, so far?”

“Oh, definitely Bak Ging,” Isabelle said, referring to the Han nation capital where they’d first landed. “I could have spent days just walking around, looking at the buildings.”

“The metal craftingship was breathtaking,” Magnus agreed. “Is that what you’re studying in your apprenticeship, metal architecture?”

“I appreciate it, but I prefer working with things I can hold,” she said. She took the jacket off, holding out her wrists, showing Magnus the iron bracelets that she always wore. They didn’t have any kind of visible clasp or seam; they were singular pieces of dark metal, the edges smooth, and there was a way that they seemed organic, like they had grown around her wrists naturally. “I’m learning to make objects, like jewelry or knives. I made these bracelets when I was seven, and have been re-making on my birthday every year since then.”

Magnus sat up, reaching out to admire them more closely. “They’re exceptional,” Magnus said, running the pad of their index finger over subtly-raised patterns on the surface. There were three snakes on each, overlapping like a living braid, the three reptilian tongues blooming outwards into a forking root pattern. “Is one of your egg parents a snake being?”

“She was,” Isabelle said, giving them a pleased look. “How did you know?”

“You’ve definitely inherited her serpentine grace,” Magnus said, punctuating their point by running their fingers over the wavelike form of one of the snakes on her bracelet.

“Really?” Isabelle still seemed pleased, in almost a surprised way, but a shadow of discomfort also pinched her shoulders. “I don’t feel like I inherited much from them. One of my egg mothers is a rainbow boa, the other is a white crane, and somehow I came out with four legs and a tail.”

“Tails have their uses,” Magnus said lightly, reaching out and flicking a stray hair out of her face with the tip of their tail.

Isabelle laughed, reaching out and running her fingers along their tail playfully. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I enjoy spending time in my spirit form as much as the next being.”

Magnus was beginning to think perhaps that wasn’t true, but made no comment.

“I guess sometimes I just wonder what it would have been like,” Isabelle said, fingering the edges of her bracelet. “If I had inherited one of their forms. My third egg uncle was the one who taught me about being a wolf, until I went to the monastery.”

“But you were so young,” Magnus said, frowning. Spirit beings were supposed to receive guidance from an elder well into their teen years, if not longer. For practical reasons, of course, but it was also the main spirit being familial relationship. Since Isabelle was Jace’s age, that meant she’d stopped receiving guidance around five years old.

“After our human parents died, there wasn’t anyone to take me to his forest. The monks took me in because I’m joined with Jace, but they…” Isabelle shrugged, sighing a little.

“Left you to your own devices?” Magnus said, filling in the blanks.

“Mostly,” Isabelle said, and though her tone was a bit wistful, there was no bitterness in it.

Magnus could imagine her, sitting alone in her bare monastic room, dreaming of faraway places. And now here she was, traveling to the most unknown place of all.

They found themself wondering if Gunyam hadn’t been so haphazard in selecting these three for their pilgrimage, after all, but they quickly brushed the thought away with a slight shake of their head. Just because they’d decided to stay didn’t mean they were going to be brainwashed into thinking there was anything righteous or fair about the pou saat’s actions.

“Kalinda is a wolf,” Magnus said, thinking back to the scent they’d picked up: canine, loam, and an undertone that reminded Magnus of leaves rustling in the nighttime dark. “Perhaps she can share some of her wisdom with you.”

“You smelled it, too?” Isabelle said, her eyes lighting up. “I thought she might be, but I wasn’t sure.”

Canines had a keener sense of smell than felines, so it wasn’t that Isabelle couldn’t pick it up, it was that she couldn’t accurately identify it. Scenting your own kind was one of the most rudimentary skills, which meant there was an entire world that Isabelle was perceiving but unable to interpret properly. There was so much she hadn’t learned.

“I’m fairly certain, yes,” Magnus said, hedging a bit so they wouldn’t make her feel bad. They’d recognize that distinctive scent anywhere.

“Mmm,” Isabelle hummed, smiling a little, easily accepting Magnus’s assessment. Her gaze slid to the window, looking out at the falling dusk. “It’ll be nice to spend some time with another wolf.”

And if Kalinda didn’t share the sentiment, Magnus was sure they could step in and show her some of the ropes. Their leopard senses were different from a wolf’s, but they were both predators, and probably had more similarities than differences.

Isabelle finished sorting through her things, and they went to join the others for dinner at the eatery.

* * *

A few hours after Alec was asleep, when the rhythm of his breathing had fallen into the pattern that Magnus knew meant he was in deep in his dreams, Magnus went to sit cross-legged on their bed.

As they breathed, their eyes settled naturally onto the sight of Alec’s abdomen, slow rising and falling with each of his breaths. The sound helped Magnus slip into a semi-meditative state, to calm their swirling worries about the yiugwai that would be after Alec in the forest.

When the nervousness tried to edge in, to push their heart into their throat, they simply listened to the soft inhale and exhale, and it dissipated.

 _Now or never_ , they said to themself, and closed their eyes.

They filled their belly and lungs with air, and _twisted_ \-- it was akin to turning their spirit inside out, like the flick of a wrist to reveal the face of a playing card, but inside themself. To bring the bipedal form inward, and allow the quadruped to emerge. Their physical form became pliable, liquid-like, undulating like sand, and they were surrounded in a golden glow as they shifted.

When they opened their eyes, their claws were digging into the blanket, they were lying on their belly, and a satisfied purr began to rumble, rolling up from their chest into their throat. They saw well in the dark as a biped, but now it was as if the dark didn’t even exist; Alec was outlined in a faint golden flow, the long line of his neck exposed when he buried his face into the pillow.

Their senses were alight and they luxuriated in their fur, their power, them _self_. Magnus didn’t become a different being per se, but their consciousness also transformed: different instincts came forward, and a distinctly feline set of priorities clarified, the confusion and contradiction of the bipedal mind honing into a simple process of instinct-action- _now_.

But almost immediately, Magnus had to fight themself, disrupt the process to keep themself on their bed. Magnus saw Alec through their leopard eyes, and the instinct to curl up beside him, to keep him protected and safe felt like the most natural thing in the world. To nuzzle their nose into the perfect space where his neck met his shoulders and inhale his scent, to lick a luxurious grooming stripe along the well-defined tendon and up behind his ear.

Magnus shifted back into their human form too fast, like they an untrained kitten, a sense of energetic whiplash leaving them slightly lightheaded and nauseated. They flopped onto their back, spreading their arms out and looking up at the ceiling.

 _Down, you impudent feline_ , they said to themself, answering the annoyed rumble their leopard was generating in the back of their throat at the abrupt change. They threw a hand over their eyes, sighing and acknowledging to themself that they were in some deep earshit. Clearly, being careful wasn’t going to cut it. They were going to need to find a way to nip this in the bud, and fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next few chapters will be a crossover with Heroes (Mohinder Suresh) and The Good Wife (Kalinda Sharma).


	15. Inevitable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus tests their elements and finds a way to get their leopard instincts under control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *does the joyous 50K dance!!* I didn't realize until just now, but this is actually the longest thing I've ever written in my LIFE, so I am super happy about this milestone!
> 
> Now seems as good a time as any to share some of the casting I've done. I couldn't find pictures with the right hairstyles for Alec and Jace, *shrug*, but at least this gives of an idea of how I'm imagining them.
> 
> [Deng Lun as Alec](https://www.facebook.com/dengluninternationalfans/photos/a.478228079330929/515188678968202/?type=3&theater).  
> [Liu Yifei as Isabelle](https://www.moviestillsdb.com/movies/the-forbidden-kingdom-i865556/f7cbef2b).  
> [Ki Hong Lee as Jace](http://fangirlish.com/why-ki-hong-lee-is-about-to-take-hollywood-by-storm/).

“A pou saat’s blessing, you say?” Mohinder said, running the tiny instrument a few inches above Alec’s skin as they raked a probing gaze over him, their gaze simultaneously far too intimate and clinically detached, somehow. It was clearly making Alec uncomfortable, and Magnus’s leopard raised some of the fine fur that ran along their spine, agitated as well.

The instrument itself looked like a spider that had fireflies for feet, the tiny points of light emitting different colors and degrees of intensity as it passed over Alec’s body. The light flashed a pulsating, vibrant blue when Mohinder reached Alec’s lower daan tin, and Mohinder’s eyes widened.

“Impressive,” they muttered, setting the instrument aside and scrawling some notes in their lightscroll with their fingertip. “Very impressive.”

“And?” Magnus prompted.

Mohinder had said they might have an idea to mask some of the intensity of Alec’s energy, and Magnus had insisted they look into it before leaving. They didn’t share Jace’s confidence that they’d be able to get Alec through the forest unharmed, and if anything could make that more likely, they were going to make sure it happened.

“Do you wear these all the time?” Mohinder asked, gesturing two fingers towards Alec’s prayer beads.

“Yes,” Alec said without hesitation, nodding and reaching up to touch them, as if his fingers were summoned by the mere mention of the beads.

Magnus couldn’t catch the slight purr that tickled at the back of their throat in time to stop it, which Magnus tried to cover by coughing into their fist and clearing their throat. Mohinder’s raised eyebrow and sidelong glance made them doubt their success.

“If you could lend them to me for the rest of the day, I should be able to infuse them with a type of shielding energy -- a combination of air and ether. It won’t render you invisible, precisely, but you will be more… muted, shall we say. The yiugwai will need to get relatively close to sense you.” Mohinder gestured in the air around Alec, outlining him with their movement. “It will extend around you like a second aura, though not very far, because my ether supply is limited until I can get a refill.”

“I might have some to spare,” Magnus said, stretching the truth just a bit. “Do you have somewhere I can pour it?”

“An ether elemental?” Mohinder said, raising their eyebrow in Magnus’s direction again, gaze assessing. “No wonder Kalinda was sizing you up.”

Magnus wasn’t surprised to find out that Kalinda was also an ether elemental -- it was etched into her very demeanor, the perfect keen emptiness in her expression, the way her eyes took in everything and showed nothing, like hungry mirrors consuming the world around them.

“Will this do?” Mohinder said, picking a bowl off one of their bookshelves and handing it to Magnus. The bowl was made of a dark red clay, glazed with white limestone on the outside, and inside there was a perfectly round sphere of water held inside air, a blank canvas ready to absorb Magnus’s elemental energy. Isabelle had explained to them that water was the most common way of containing and storing elemental energies until they could be refined and infused, and that the water receiving the element was called a pulsation.

“I’m sure it will, though I’m not familiar with how to pour my element into it,” Magnus said. Alec was watching curiously, still idly rolling the prayer beads between his fingers.

Mohinder blinked at Magnus for a moment before breaking into a smile. “I get the sense that I would find your life story absolutely fascinating,” they said, coming to stand next to Magnus. Magnus smirked back; Mohinder didn’t know the half of it.

“Most people find it helpful to hold their hand up,” Mohinder said, demonstrating by placing their palm a few inches from the sphere. “This is a small pulsation, so you’ll want to focus the element into a thin stream, condensing into a concentrated tendril.”

Magnus usually used their element to draw things in, not to extend outwards. They squinted at the pulsation, feeling their brows pull down towards the bridge of their nose. The energy began to gather in the hand they held up, but they didn’t have a sense of how to bring it out, how to bring something that had always felt formless into form.

“Turn it inside out,” came Kalinda’s voice out of nowhere, and Magnus’s heart skipped a beat.

“Oh!” Mohinder said, looking up to find her standing on Magnus’s other side. They shot her a brilliant smile. “I didn’t see you there, darling.”

“Inside out?” Magnus asked, holding the energy in their hand more gently as they tried to sort out what she meant.

“Like shifting,” Kalinda said slowly, like she couldn’t believe Magnus hadn’t inferred her complete meaning from her first explanation.

And at that, it did click -- it was like the flick of the wrist that shifted the perspective, the reveal of the card. The same way that human gave way to animal, formlessness could give way to form.

“I see,” Magnus said, turning back to the sphere. They took a few breaths, building up as much energy into their hand as they could, and then inhaled sharply, inverting the formlessness until it crystallized, unfurling from their palm in an inky black tendril.

Magnus poured until the sphere filled up, becoming an obsidian orb, just faint traces of blue left swirling amidst the dark nothingness. They swayed on their feet a little when they pulled back, light-headed from the strange exertion.

“Magnus,” Alec said in that quiet but forceful way of his, and suddenly he slid past Mohinder to stand next to Magnus. He placed a steadying hand under Magnus’s elbow, expression a thundercloud of worry. Kalinda seemed to have disappeared into thin air once again, nowhere to be seen. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Magnus said, patting Alec’s shoulder and easing their elbow out of his grip with a step back. His… everything was just a bit too much for Magnus right now, when they were shaky and already struggling to wrestle down the leopard’s background instincts, which wanted to push them towards Alec. “I think I just went a bit fast, that’s all.”

“That was incredibly quick,” Mohinder confirmed, holding up the bowl and examining the sphere with interest. “And that was your first time pouring?”

“Yes, but I’m trained in a daoist mystical lineage,” Magnus said. It was well known that elemental mastery was one of the common pillars of all the mystical schools. “I’m no stranger to manipulating my energy.”

“As I said,” Mohinder said, once again giving Magnus an assessing eye, the corner of their lips slowly rising into an appraising smile. “Fascinating.”

Alec glanced between the two of them, clasping his hands in the small of his back and frowning.

“Anyway,” Mohinder continued, setting the bowl down and going to their worktable, re-arranging objects into some sort of order only they could identify. “Combining Kalinda’s energy with yours will make the infusion even more effective, since you both have your unique signatures. It may even be wide enough to cover us as a group, if we all stay close together.”

“How long will the infusion last?” Alec asked.

“It… depends,” Mohinder said, beginning to gather a specific set of tools into the space they cleared in the center of the table. “If we’re aiming for longevity, and we reinforce the infusion multiple times a day, it should become quite strong, potentially lasting you for years.”

“We’ll have to see how the Western Reach affects it,” Magnus said.

“That is the unknown element in play, yes,” Mohinder said, opening up a vial of bright purple energy and sniffing, closing it again with a satisfied nod. “I’m familiar with all of the rather contradictory published accounts of those who have returned from the realm, but it’s impossible to know whose account is accurate without firsthand verification.”

 _They’re probably all accurate to some degree,_ Magnus refrained from saying, because they sensed it would lead Mohinder down a thread that would take all afternoon to dissect. Scientists looked for patterns and predictability, and the Western Reach had little to offer of either.

“Thank you very much for your kind efforts on our behalf,” Alec said with the practiced warmth he seemed to be able to draw out when he fell back on these rituals, bowing to Mohinder. “May the Sage multiply the merit of your deeds.”

Mohinder stopped what they were doing, looking up at Alec. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” they said, a hint of color in their cheeks. Then their expression slid right back into the tunnel vision that seemed to be their default work mode, extending a hand towards Alec and nodding towards the beads. “If I may?”

“Oh, uh,” Alec looked down at the beads, like he’d completely forgotten he was supposed to leave them here. “Right.” He pulled them off slowly, curling them up into his hand, and deposited them gently into Mohinder’s hand.

“I’ll take good care of them,” Mohinder said with a reassuring smile. “I promise.”

“Of course,” Alec said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’ll leave you to it, then,” Magnus said, and they exchanged goodbyes before leaving to go join the others.

* * *

“What’s it like,” Alec said, reaching out to place another serving of steamed rice into his bowl. “The pleasure current?”

Magnus choked quite magnificently on the vine they’d been chewing on, a quite large chunk of it lodging somewhere in their esophagus and refusing to budge. They downed an entire cup of tea, wiping at the tears that had squeezed out of their eyes during their coughing fit.

“The _what_ now?” Jace said, angling their head towards Alec. He gave an exaggerated blink after each word, clearly sinking his teeth into the topic the way a dog would lock its jaw around a rope, refusing to let go.

“Magnus says that emotions are like currents,” Alec explained. “And I’ve been trying to observe the currents as they arise in the moment, but the only ones I can recognize are the ones I already know.”

“Mmm,” Isabelle hummed, consideringly. She pushed her bowl of food to the side, leaning her chin on her propped up fist, and gazed up at Magnus with large, deceptively innocent eyes. “That’s so interesting. Can you tell us more about this pleasure current, Magnus?”

Magnus narrowed their gaze at her, not missing the wisps of amusement swirling like whorls of smoke in her eyes.

“You’ve definitely got my attention,” Jace said.

“My experience of it may have no bearing on your experience of that particular emotional current,” Magnus said, choosing their words carefully.

“Oh,” Alec said, looking down. “I should have thought of that. I’m sure I can figure it out on my own.”

Looking at Alec -- the slight embarrassment that he was papering over as quickly as he could, the way his shoulders pulled inwards -- Magnus had to close their eyes and send a quick prayer to Lord Guan for strength. They knew for a fact that the general occasionally listened to such entreaties, and they could certainly use a touch of his steely resolve right now.

“However,” Magnus said, and practically felt the glow of Isabelle’s burgeoning smile as they spoke, “on the off-chance that it does, give me a moment to gather my thoughts.”

Alec’s relieved smile and nod gave them all the incentive they needed to make a real attempt to answer the question, though it would have been nice if Alec had started with something just a hair simpler, like trying to distill the meaning of life into a single sentence or describing the unknowable mystery of the dao with words.

There were so many types of pleasure, and the way they interacted with other currents could make it very complicated to isolate a single strand -- pleasure was often intertwined with pain, guilt, or self-punishment. Then again, perhaps that was the very thing that they needed to explain.

“You buddhists differentiate between clinging to lunwui’s pleasure and simply experiencing a nice moment, correct?” Magnus said, wanting to make sure they were discussing the same parameters.

“Yeah,” Jace said, pouring tea refills for the table. “We’re not unfeeling rocks, or anything. We can appreciate a pretty butterfly landing on a flower, or drinking a cold glass of water on a hot day. But if you’re gambling away your family’s life savings, that’s major clinging.”

“Trying to hold lunwui’s pleasure in a tight grip, a phenomenon which is inherently ephemeral and can never be eternal, leads to the greatest suffering of all,” Alec said.

Magnus swallowed, the back of their throat slightly bitter. They understood all too intimately the exact distinction that Alec was talking about -- the urge to grip tighter to _make_ something last, to freeze an experience in a never-ending moment of time so that you’d never have to lose it.

The principles of the dao explored that same point of tension, the resistance of the mind to accepting that the dao was ever-arising, never still. That by its very nature, it could not be contained into a stagnant, limited form, no matter how appealing that form might seem.

“The last ‘pleasure’ that I clung to,” Magnus said, looking steadily into Alec’s eyes, because they wanted to stay here in the present. “Every time I did it, it was a dual current, two things braided together so tightly that they were hard to tell apart.”

The teasing air that Jace and Isabelle had been exuding faded away, and they watched Magnus with interest.

“There was a sense of satisfaction,” Magnus said, and moved their hands abstractedly to try and pull the shape of if out of the air. “A way that my whole body relaxed, like my skin wasn’t so tight anymore, and a kind of thrill, that I was getting what I wanted. That I was winning. But underneath it was…”

Magnus didn’t let their eyes move from Alec, even when he visibly swallowed.

“Fear,” Magnus finally said. “Because I knew that even though I wasn’t letting go, eventually it would slip out of my grasp anyway. All I could do was delay the inevitable.”

Magnus let themself look back down at their food, then, picking at the slivers of roasted nuts that were sprinkled over their dish. The table was silent for a long moment.

“Okay, my mind’s a little blown right now,” Jace said, breaking the quiet. He held a hand up, mimicking an explosion with his fingers and making a soft _pow_ sound to accentuate the gesture.

“I never thought about how something that seems good could be tangled up with something bad like that,” Isabelle said, tapping the tips of her chopsticks against her lips.

“I appreciate your insight, Magnus,” Alec said, mien grave and contemplative.

“We’ll leave the tales of my more salacious adventures for another day,” Magnus said, trying to lighten the mood again. They winked in Jace’s direction. “Though there is one involving a pirate I think you might enjoy.”

“Sifu, I think you know that I’m going to need to hear that story right away,” Jace responded without hesitation, and then raised a hand to signal their waiter. “More tea, please!”

* * *

“You can form them, but you can’t melt them,” Magnus clarified, picking up one of the egg-size spheres of ice that Alec had created. They were all sitting in the grass, because they’d finished their drills and now Magnus wanted to get a sense of their elemental abilities and whether they might be able to use them to strengthen their techniques.

“That’s right. I mean,” Alec shrugged, gesturing at the six ice spheres he’d created. “That’s all I can do, period, actually.”

“And you can grow the branches, but you can’t bring them back into the wood?” Magnus asked Jace next, setting down the ice and picking up the narrow spruce branch they’d given him. He’d extended four small off-shoots, a few delicate leaf buds peeking out as well.

“Ungrow them?” Jace’s brow furrowed; he was caught off-guard. “I never thought to try that, Sifu.”

“A beautiful creation, peach,” Magnus said, moving on to Isabelle’s handiwork. They’d purchased an iron bowl for her, and she’d re-shaped it into a decorative and dangerous finger sheath. It curved wickedly at the end, the tip as sharp as a needle.

“I was inspired by your claws,” Isabelle said with a bright smile.

Magnus tapped their index finger in the air in her direction three times. “And you know that flattery will get you everywhere, don’t you?”

“Sifu’s pet,” Jace coughed into his fist, earning Isabelle’s elbow in his side. They laughed as they jostled, though, clearly having fun with it.

“Have you ever extracted iron yourself?” Magnus asked, changing the direction of their fingers, unfolding them towards the ground underneath them.

“No,” Isabelle said, shaking her head. “I’m not an extractor, I’m a crafter.”

Magnus nodded, interlacing their fingers in front of them and thinking for a moment. The trick was to find a task that was well outside of their limits, but not so far as to be completely ridiculous. It had to be near enough to imagine, even if it wasn’t attainable.

“Alec, I’d like you to try to extract water from the air and fill this bowl,” Magnus said, picking up the second iron bowl that they’d purchased and placing it in front of Alec. Then they gestured at a spot in the ground in front of Jace. “Jace, I’d like you to try to grow a sapling from this part of the ground, without a starter branch. And finally, Isabelle,” they took her finger sheaths, setting them to the side, and indicated the ground in front of her. “I’d like you to try extracting iron from the earth, enough to fill your fist.”

The three of them stared back at Magnus, a trifecta of reactions: Alec was troubled; Jace mildly confused; Isabelle curious, like she was waiting for more information to decide how to react.

Jace looked back and forth between the other two. “Sifu, no disrespect or anything, but… we can’t do any of that.”

“I understand,” Magnus said, restraining their smile. They could have explained the philosophy before the lesson, of course, but they knew there was benefit in the confusion of trying to understand it. The instinctive rejection they were experiencing was best felt firsthand, rather than explained secondhand. Magnus had struggled with the concept for quite some time themself when they were first learning. “But I didn’t say you were required to accomplish the tasks I gave you.”

Alec watched Magnus intently, studying them like they were a great mystery he was trying to unravel.

“You want us to try,” Alec said, his fingers tapping a beat on his knee. “Even knowing that we’ll fail.”

“You cannot _know_ that,” Magnus corrected lightly. “None of us are oracles. It is simply very likely that you’ll fail.”

“Then why try?” Isabelle said, spreading her hand in the grass in front of her. She was getting a headstart, extending her metal sense into the soil below her palm.

“This type of exercise challenges you to let go of the goal,” Magnus explained. “It’s intended to force you outside the limits of your known capabilities, into the discomfort of the unknown.”

“But I like accomplishing the goal,” Jace said, lips pouting a bit petulantly.

Magnus laughed lightly. “Yes, I’ve noticed. And there is a time and place for that. But one of the most important lessons that my own Sifu taught me is that the most potent growth occurs beyond the limits of our experiences, beyond what we think is possible.”

“There’s value in the act of reaching,” Alec said, understanding beginning to dawn.

“Yes,” Magnus said. “This isn’t about attaining the goal. It’s about the alchemical transformation of _who_ you become in the struggle of trying to attain it.”

They were quiet for a moment, the soft sounds of birdsong filtering in on the soft breeze. Magnus gaze them the time to allow the concept to percolate at its own pace.

“That’s some top notch immortal wisdom right there,” Jace said, clapping his hands together and rubbing the palms vigorously. “I’m about to alchemy the deiyuk out of this ground.”

“Let’s try for ten minutes today,” Magnus said, and sat back to observe them energetically as they did.

Magnus didn’t fully activate their fo ngaan, opening it just enough to get general impressions of the energy interactions beneath the surface rather than seeing every finer detail.

Isabelle had a good instinct for reaching her element into the soil, spreading her energy wide a few feet into the earth, her yellow glow intermixing with the pulsating green and brown energy of the soil, roots, and teeming life. Her energy naturally gravitated towards where the iron was concentrated in the soil, but she couldn’t do anything beyond touch it.

Jace’s orange exertions were a chaotic bundle, like corkscrews driving down into the soil and attempting yank something upwards out of it. He destroyed more than a few of the webs of delicate roots, barreling through them without sensing them.

Alec’s energy was different, so tightly controlled that it was a nearly solid-seeming cylinder emerging from the palm he was holding above the palm. The invisible droplets of suspended moisture in the air that were caught within his range of focus were trembling, but they couldn’t come together because of how tightly Alec had trapped them, battering them with wave after wave of intensity.

When they were finished, Jace was energized, Alec had a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, and Isabelle yawned loudly. Magnus had a good sense of what each of them would need to work on for the next time, so Magnus let Alec go, and Isabelle and Jace stayed longer because she’d decided to join Jace for the extra study.

Their mind was always swirling with the possibilities for the exercises they could do in the wilderness of the forest, and it was starting to feel less strange when Jace called them Sifu. They wondered what their own Sifu would think if she could see Magnus now, passing tidbits of her lineage onto these three followers of the path. They could only hope she wouldn’t think too poorly of them.

* * *

It was nearly dawn by the time Magnus had sorted their thoughts out to their satisfaction. This problem with Alec was starting to veer into very risky territory, and Magnus needed to be in complete agreement with themself on all levels as to how they were going to handle it.

They shifted into their leopard form, sitting on the same place on the bed that they had last night. They settled into their second skin comfortable, running their tongue over their paw and curling their tail around their side.

And when the instinct arose this time, the urge to go be near Alec, to nuzzle in and breathe him deeply, Magnus was ready.

 _I have to protect him_ , Magnus reminded themself, using what was left of their lingering bipedal consciousness to impress this directive into the feline consciousness.

The instincts hummed in agreement, bringing them to stand on the bed, getting ready to leap over to Alec’s.

 _From myself_ , Magnus thought forcefully, bringing their body back down onto the blanket with all of their willpower.

Magnus quickly began to flip through a series of images they’d carefully spent the night crafting: Alec waking up in pure terror to find a leopard over him. Him recoiling in horror from their leopard tongue, flustered and desperate to get away from Magnus. Alec cowering, holding a shaking hand out to keep Magnus away from him.

Magnus kept going, even though each progressive image was more uncomfortable than the previous one, and their leopard was keening internally.

Magnus in their bipedal form, leaning in to take Alec’s lips, and Alec pushing them away forcefully, something like betrayal in his eyes. Alec looking at them with hooded eyes, suspicious and closed off, like he’d been after the meeting with the pou saat. Alec begging the pou saat to send them away, leaving himself defenseless.

 _From myself,_ Magnus repeated with the last bit of energy, their consciousness exhausted. They sank slowly into the natural flow, the instinct-action-now taking the helm and leaving behind the preoccupation with the past and the future.

 _Protect_ , Magnus purred, leaning forward and resting their chin on their two front paws. Yes. They would protect this one, make sure no harm came to him. They’d never considered that they might be the one to harm him just by following their natural instincts, but they accepted it, staying where they were, ready to shift back into their bipedal form as soon as he showed signs of waking.


	16. Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They start their journey into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a win this Sunday, so publishing this chapter is going to be it!

**Part 2: The Forest**

_The crags of the mountain are black, jagged, sharply-faceted fangs jutting out of the soft mouth of the earth. Alec is clinging to one of the elongated points, the rings where his arms slot into his shoulders burning like two scorching bands of molten lava, leaving his arms jelly-like and trembling as he slides infinitesimally downward._

_“They’re waiting for you,” the Sage says. The very tip of one of her large toes is extended in an elegant line that goes from her hip down to where she hovers just above the deadly point of an obsidian fang near Alec. Her arms hang loosely at her side and her robe dances in the increasingly volatile wind._

_Her hovering form is the only light in the blue-black of the night, an ethereal shimmer emanating from her form, cast against a background of roiling storm clouds that are consuming the sky and moving in to surround them._

_Her eyes are pure tranquility as they gaze upon him, her lips the gentle stroke of a fingertip breaking the surface of clear water._

_“Will I die?” Alec asks, and then he hears their voices, distorted and unintelligible, like the words are struggling through deep ocean layers to reach him. Daring to look down, he sees Jace small as a trinket figurine, one of his arms extended up towards Alec. In defiance of the distance, Alec can see Jace’s brown and hazel eyes clearly, how strands of his plastered, wet hair snake down the sides of his face, framing the fear in his gaze as he watches Alec slide inexorably down._

_“That is not your question,” Magdalena corrects, because no self-delusion can exist in this space. They are seated in lotus posture on a third fang, hovering a hairsbreadth above the point of the needle._

_Isabelle is next to Jace, her hair a living crown of white serpents, matched by the large white crane wings that are extending from her upper back. She reaches for him as the first drops of rain begin to kiss her skin, her fingers stretching and stretching; Jace has extended his left arm to reach for Alec, and Isabelle her right, creating a circle to catch him when he falls._

_“Will I live?” Alec asks, and the obsidian underneath his fingers is crumbling into pieces, transforming into tiny shards of sparkling diamond falling down towards Isabelle and Jace. The glittering pieces absorb into their skin with flares of light. Four of the shards fall in slow motion towards their pupils, sinking into the black circles, and the light blossoms out in an explosion of brightness._

_“All you need to do is say yes,” and then Magnus is there, golden eyes glinting with shards of diamond instead of black slits. They look at Alec without fear, certainty embodied: they are ready to catch him._

_And then all three of them link their hands into a circle, waiting for Alec on the ground._

_“I’m ready,” he tells everyone, all of these beings who care for him. The gratitude aches inside of him, longing to birth. He’s stunned to realize that this, too, is his bo ying -- that they waited for him, until he was ready. That they’ve been standing at the foot of the mountain he built, with patience and love._

_He falls, letting go and tumbling into the complete weightlessness of air._

* * *

“Alec, wake up!” the voice said urgently, and his shoulders were being gripped tightly. “Alec!”

Alec’s eyes felt sandy and dry, but he got them open. He was shivering so much that Magnus’s face was blurry in his vision, but their worry came across loud and clear, the loud jangle of an alarm bell.

“I’m --”

“You’re not fine!” Magnus said, not quite a shout but edging close. “What are they _doing_ to you?”

Alec reached out instinctively, gripping Magnus’s wrist, which was deliciously warm underneath his icy fingers. He sighed at the contact.

“You’re freezing,” Magnus said, still sounding offended, and quickly shuffled around, taking both of Alec’s hands inside of theirs. His blood slowly began to circulate again, causing a wave of pinpricks as his flesh woke, especially strong where Magnus was running their thumbs over his skin.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” Alec said, getting the feeling that if he tried to convince Magnus he was fine that he would just agitate them more.

Magnus’s eyes lost some of their righteous intensity, softening as they looked down at him. “You’re not upsetting me, young novice. I simply don’t understand why they’re putting you through this.”

“But… it’s…” Alec drew air in slowly through his nose, hearing the sweet soughing in his ears as it traveled from his nostrils into his throat, feeling every inch of his belly expanding. His body felt less shattered this time and more charged, all of his senses heightened beyond their normal range. Perhaps he was starting to adjust to the influx of new energies. “I’m grateful for the blessing.”

The corners of Magnus’s mouth arced down into two curved hooks. “Of course you are,” they said, but Alec didn’t feel censure from them, just a quiet resignation at Alec’s unwavering devotion.

Alec felt a strange temptation to reach up and smooth the troubled curve of Magnus’s mouth, to help their lips find their way back into the leisurely, kind curve that they wore so naturally.

“I’m sure you went through much worse when you became immortal,” Alec said, turning to words to accomplish his goal, because his body was too bashful to take such liberties. Alec didn’t know the specifics of the mysterious process of achieving immortality, but he knew it was no cruise along a laketop.

And perhaps it was the aftereffects of the dream, but Alec felt with a sudden clarity how much it mattered to him to chase away Magnus’s displeasure. It had been happening so gradually he almost hadn’t realized, but Magnus was becoming important to him. His relief to see Magnus when he awoke from the dream, vulnerable and shaking, was ample evidence. He could count on one hand the people he’d feel comfortable being around in this state.

Magnus’s frown did ease, but their eyes narrowed, a hint of amusement glinting there. “You’re quite good at that, aren’t you?”

Alec’s brows drew together, confused about what Magnus meant.

“Shifting the focus off yourself,” Magnus said, raising an eyebrow as if to say that they were onto him. Then they waved a hand, sitting back and taking their hands off Alec in the same motion. Alec had warmed up but still found himself missing Magnus’s heat. “But, shrewd as you apparently are, you have a point. Transformation often comes at a cost.”

Alec hadn’t considered what he was going through in that kind of context. The wild fluctuations he was experience -- between the bliss of receiving guidance and the lows of feeling like he was losing his grasp on who he was -- felt like a distasteful instability, but perhaps it was more than that.

Alec pulled himself up, noting the pastel morning light spilling in through the window. “Let’s go wake Isabelle and Jace,” he said, rising from the bed with an extra spring in his step. Magnus kept an eye trained on him for a second, like they were still suspicious about the after-effects of the dream, but shrugged a little after a moment, apparently satisfied at the improvement in Alec’s condition.

* * *

Alec hadn’t expected the lay world to so thoroughly teach him a level of humility that, frankly, he’d never even imagined possible.

He’d imagined walking out into the chaos and disorder of the lay world as a beacon, as a living, breathing example of the benefits of the path. He’d hoped to plant seeds of spiritual curiosity in the laity they met along the way. In a very secret corner of his mind, he’d even considered that maybe the opportunity for some lively conversations with daoists might arise, and that he’d finally have the chance to pin them down with the questions he’d been told were “too confrontational” to ask at the monastery. That maybe he could show some of them the deeper, richer truth of the eightfold path.

And here he was, following the advice of Magnus -- a daoist who made their distaste for his faith and deities clear at every turn -- and discovering how little he’d mastered even the basic principles of his own path.

When Magnus suggested identifying his subtler emotions, he immediately equated it with the buddhist practice of noting. Alec was a master at placing single-word soft labels on his actions and internal reality, at keeping himself deeply grounded in the present moment. Garden chores were _dig, pull, discard, step, tiredness -- dig, pull, thought, discard, step._ For a moment, he’d been eager to get started, sure it would be a simple matter for someone as experienced as he was.

And that was when he realized that somewhere along this journey into the lay world, he’d completely stopped noting.

Instead of a stream of serene soft single words, his mind had become a jumbled, disorganized tangle of questions, worries, logistics, and trying to make sense of everything they’d experienced. It especially unnerved him that he couldn’t even pinpoint the day or moment that it had happened -- his discipline had simply slipped away quietly when he wasn’t paying attention, like a pet wandering away from an absent-minded, neglectful owner.

He felt like with each passing day parts of him were falling off, bits and pieces of the novice known as Alec, leaving behind a trail of breadcrumbs that led back to his home, the place that had made him into the very person who was disintegrating with each step forward.

They stood in front of the forest, the brightness of the sun deeply filtered by the thick canopy, giving the impression of crossing a threshold from the heat and warmth into a cool, dappled world of secrets and silence. The six of them exchanged glances without words, a feeling in the air like they were holding their collective breath.

Alec looked back at the direction they’d come from, remembering the last thing Magdalena had told him before he’d left.

They’d stood smiling in the cold dark of the pre-dawn, hands tucked inside the robes of their sleeves just below their sternum, hands hidden within the clean lines of orange and red. _True knowing of non-self goes beyond the intellectual, novice. Learn what lies beneath the hard shell of ‘Alec,’ find the stream of dynamic experience as it arises from the fertile ground of unified energy, and you will begin to understand._

The words had been a gentle challenge, like so much of the instruction they had given Alec over the years. Alec had dutifully memorized the words, though to his frustration he hadn’t been able to unravel their meaning.

He exhaled, knowing that he was leaving yet another part of Alec behind in this remote mountain outpost. Instead of the instinctive panic that had been tightening his skin with each successive part of himself that crumbled, he felt a sense of peace. Maybe letting go of this label, his idea of ‘Alec,’ was the beginning of something.

He looked ahead, and began striding forward, breaking their standstill. The others soon fell into step with him.

* * *

“Have you noticed any side-effects over the past few hours?” Mohinder asked, gesturing at the beads that were once again hanging around Alec’s neck. Alec was glad to have the comforting weight back in place. He reached up, gripping one of the lower beads between his thumb and forefinger, rolling its cool weight idly.

“Nothing apart from the expected,” Alec said. The sensation, as Mohinder had described it -- “a dampening effect that may or may not affect your auditory field” -- was odd to say the least, creating the sensation of a nearly-silent echo at the periphery of his hearing, but it was very mild.

“Good,” Mohinder said with a nod. “I’ll do another infusion when we stop for lunch, but definitely let me know if you experience anything unusual.”

“So those beads make us like, invisible-ish?” Jace asked, popping up behind them on the trail and leaning over their shoulders to look down at Alec’s necklace.

Isabelle, Magnus, and Kalinda were up ahead, leading the way. Isabelle and Magnus were engaged in a spirited conversation, while Kalinda spent her time looking at the forest around them, quietly alert to every breeze and rustle.

Mohinder smiled brightly. “Not in the sense of eyesight, no. But we’ll be much harder to detect energetically, especially the esteemed Alec here.”

Jace raised his eyebrows loudly, a specialty of his. “Esteemed,” he repeated in an exaggerated voice, waggling them in Alec’s direction.

Alec sighed, infusing it with as much of a I’m-not-impressed-with-your-behavior flavor as he could, an all too familiar occurrence with Jace.

As he did so, the part of his awareness that had been practicing Magnus’s method of observing emotional currents picked something up. Like many of the currents he’d been noticing, he didn’t have a word for it yet, but it was pleasant, almost like satisfaction, or an urge to stand a bit straighter. He filed it away for later, assuming that as he gained more experience his ability to identify would improve.

“Was it something I said?” Mohinder asked, glancing between them.

“The laity usually call us ‘venerable’ when they want to get fancy,” Jace explained. “‘Esteemed’ is a ruist thing.” 

“Oh, my apologies if I offended,” Mohinder said, bobbing their head quickly in a slight bowing motion, their black curls bobbing. “And that is where I picked it up.”

“There is no offense. This poor novice appreciates your undeserved respect, kind person,” Alec said, inclining his head back to ease Mohinder’s worry.

“So are you a ruist?” Jace asked.

“No, I don’t follow any of the common faiths,” Mohinder said with a shrug. “They’re all stimulating on an intellectual level, but my inclination has always been towards delving into the mysteries in this realm.”

A musical chime emerged from the bag Mohinder was carrying at their waist, and they opened the flap, pulling out their lightscroll.

“Excuse me,” Mohinder said, flashing them a smile and stepping out of the way to let Jace pass. “I need to take this.”

Mohinder fell back a few paces, and made a gesture over the lightscroll, opening up a lightstream that would allow them to communicate with the caller. From the words that Alec could make out, it sounded like they were talking with a colleague who was clearly a good friend, gesturing animatedly as they spoke and discussing scientific concepts that were far outside Alec’s realm of understanding.

Jace looked after them a little longingly. He’d been fascinated by all the technology they’d discovered out here in the layworld. Although a lightscroll would have been useful to add to their supplies -- though it had just as much potential for frivolity as utility, in Alec’s estimation -- they were prohibitively expensive since most of Magnus’s gambling money went to necessities.

“Perhaps they’d be willing to show you how it works,” Alec said, knowing it was probably a bad idea to encourage him, but occasionally that elder brother urge to indulge his younger brother got the best of him.

“You think?” Jace said hopefully.

Alec shrugged. “They seem to like explaining things.”

“Maybe they’d let us call home,” Jace said. They’d sent a few brief aims with borrowed lightscrolls, usually piggybacking when Isabelle would send her aims to Clary, but they hadn’t been able to receive replies or have a conversation with anyone since they tried to return the scrolls as quickly as possible. The abbot kept a lightscroll for the times she needed to communicate with other monasteries, and if they called, she might even allow them to talk with some of their fellow novices since this was a unique situation.

Just a week ago, Alec would have balked at the idea of using an elemental technology for such a seemingly unnecessary thing, even if such a technology would also allow them to report their progress to the abbot and other elder monks. He would have tried to talk Jace out of it, and failing that, refused to participate.

“That would be nice,” Alec said, and was surprised to find it was true.

Jace turned his head, one of his eyebrows raising and the other dipping in a lopsided, bizarre assessment of Alec’s unexpected reaction. Finally he shook his head, laughing loudly. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, gogo, but I’m pretty sure I like it.”

“You would,” Alec said dryly, rolling his eyes, and that just made Jace laugh harder.

* * *

Alec felt the coiling energy in his lower daan tin, increasing with inhale into his contracted diaphragm. They’d been breathing for longer than Magnus had ever let them before, having finally reached what Magnus called the first stage of the embryonic breath, where they were performing the muscle movements correctly and relatively smoothly.

He faintly heard Magnus telling Mohinder it was time for Mohinder to stop. They and Kalinda had decided to sit in for tonight’s lesson, Mohinder with the disclaimer that they had absolutely no skills in this arena whatsoever, and Kalinda with nothing but a silent shared glance between her and Magnus, at the end of which Magnus had nodded and smiled, cat-like.

Since he received no similar instruction, Alec kept going, getting warmer and warmer as he progressed. A fine sweat was breaking out at the small of his back, in the crooks of his elbows and knees, and along his neck and face. He was used to many kinds of discomfort -- muscles protesting after hours in meditation, hunger, thirst, boredom, the list went on -- but this felt different, almost like there was too much energy inside of him, and it didn’t know where to go.

On some instinct, with his next inhale, he began to draw the energy tighter into his lower daan tin, and its potency intensified as it compressed, starting to faintly pulsate like a second heartbeat.

“Good,” Magnus said after another few moments, speaking softly. “Bring your awareness to the soles of your feet and open your eyes when you’re ready.”

Alec discovered he was the last to open his eyes. Mohinder was fanning themself, just as overheated as Alec despite a shorter and less advanced practice, while Kalinda seemed as untouched as a pristine statue. There was a charge in the air, though, as if everything they’d gathered in the group practice was crackling lightly in the air between them.

“What is your element, Mohinder?” Magnus asked. They were sitting loose-legged on top of an uncomfortable-looking stone, elbow propped up on one knee and the other leg hanging down to rest in the leaf-littered forest floor.

“Air,” Mohinder answered, holding up a hand. “I can manipulate sound.”

They waved their hand, and suddenly there was a lilting melody in the air, a classical opera tune about the famous myth of two element-crossed lovers who couldn’t be together because of the circumstances of their birth. The Yue spirit being and Gwongdung human longed to pair or link, but neither was possible because of their cross-species mismatch. Alec’s mother had loved that song, staring off into the far distance as she listened to the poetic words of the tragic tale.

“That’s beautiful,” Isabelle said when the sound subsided, laying a hand on her chest. She’d sometimes curled up in mother’s lap when she was listening, mother’s hand stroking over Isabelle’s thick curls softly.

“Now Sifu is going to give you something impossible to do,” Jace leaned over, advising Mohinder.

“Thank you, Jace,” Magnus said in a firm tone, giving Jace a quelling look until he leaned back into attentive posture again. They came down from the rock, reaching into the bag at their side and pulling out two iron bowls, placing one in front of Alec and one in front of Mohinder. “Mohinder, I’d like you to try to levitate this.”

Mohinder cocked their head to the side, putting a hand on their chin. “I do believe I’ve heard of this. Is it true that some taoists are actually able to expand their elemental abilities beyond the specialty they’re born with?”

“Best to focus on the task at hand,” Magnus said, nodding at the bowl. “Simply focus on the attempt itself, letting go of whatever the result may be.” Then they shifted their focus to Kalinda, a knowing expression in their eye. “May I assume you have something in mind already?”

Kalinda nodded, a very small motion. “You may.”

Magnus inclined their head in return. “Good.”

“Why does she get to pick her own exercise?” Jace whispered to Alec under his breath.

Alec shrugged. He had no ability to interpret the subtle plays of the interaction happening between the two of them. Perhaps it was some kind of unspoken ether bond they shared.

Magnus spent a few minutes giving Jace, Isabelle, and Alec more specific instructions about how to refine their practice this time. When they began the exercise, Alec focused on following Magnus’s two directions for him: allowing his elemental energy to spread wider, not concentrating it so tightly and to ‘explore movement,’ whatever that was supposed to mean.

This exercise had been hard the first time he tried it, but this time it took a much deeper degree of concentration. Trying to _reach_ for the water in the air above the bowl felt like groping through a bag full of strange objects in the dark -- he could feel something, but he had no sense of what to do with it, because he was still trying to figure out what it was.

His next step was to try to relax the stream of energy he was releasing from his palm, and the only way he was able to achieve that was to physically relax his muscles as well, slightly slumping in his posture which went against every one of his instincts. He wasn’t sure how successful he was -- it only felt slightly looser, at best -- but then again, Magnus wasn’t expecting perfection. Just that he try, and he was certainly doing that.

Once he’d become comfortable holding those two separate pieces in his focus, he tentatively contemplated what movement meant in this context. His elemental energy felt like a cylinder that was extending about a foot into the air in front of his palm; it had precisely defined edges that he realized he was unconsciously holding in place.

As he focused, everything else began to fall away: the sounds around him, the awareness of the others, even his awareness of his own body. Similar to a three by three meditation, all of his concentration powers stayed with simultaneously holding these three things: reaching, relaxing, moving.

And after some indeterminable amount of time, when the mental exhaustion began to creep in at the perimeter of his mind, he was able to move one small point within his cylinder. One small corner, that seemed to be calling his attention somehow, and he wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but he saw a faint glinting light hovering three inches out from his hand.

Instinctively, he coalesced all of his attention onto that point, reaching out and twisting his hand, and -- 

A tiny shard of ice appeared out of thin air, dropping down and _clinking_ in the metal bowl.

“Sage bless me,” he said without meaning to, incredibly shocked at what he’d done. He’d never done anything like it -- the hard limit of his ability was manifesting ice directly on the moisture of the skin of his palm, and growing it organically from there. Not pulling out out of thin air without even touching anything. A curious corner of his mind wondered how far he could reach with this extension of his ability.

As quickly as the headiness of the unexpected success manifested, though, it dissipated as he looked down at what he’d done. It was so tiny, such a pathetic effort, and nowhere near what Magnus had instructed him to do.

When he raised his head, he found everyone looking at him, and felt his jaw tense immediately. He bowed his head.

“I’m sorry, Magnus,” he said. “I know that’s not --”

“Stop,” Magnus said imperiously, shaking their head sharply, once. They raised their right wrist in an arc, leveling their index finger in Alec’s direction, the curve of their amber-colored claw glowing in the light of the saltlantern. “I don’t accept apologies for following my instructions to the letter.”

“But --”

Magnus raised their index finger, somehow stopping the motion of Alec’s lips even across the distance between them. Alec could almost feel the brush of Magnus’s warm skin on his lips, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

“You did very well, Alec, and that’s final. You’ve made impressive progress.” Magnus said in a tone that dared anyone to argue with them. “You all did very well. We’ll resume that particular exercise tomorrow.”

That meant Alec’s portion of the lesson was over; they’d already practice the postures, and what remained now was the extra study that Jace and Isabelle were doing. Mohinder joined him as he went to where the bed mats were, but Kalinda opted to stay behind. She was studying Jace and Isabelle appraisingly, already on the lookout for weaknesses in their defenses. This clearly wasn’t the first time she’d done something like this.

“I would love to hear more about how you managed to do that in the morning,” Mohinder said, pulling their lightscroll out of their bag, hopefully to read rather than watch a lightstream. Alec would find the noise distracting, and he was hoping to spend some time in silence. Too much time around other people could leave him mentally overstimulated.

“Tomorrow, then,” Alec hedged, not entirely sure that he could explain how he managed to do it.

He was relieved when Mohinder turned to fix their eyes on the scroll, no audible noises emerging from the surface. Alec took the beads off his neck, which Mohinder had told him it was safe to do, and let them drape over the middle of his hand. He closed his eyes, and one by one, silently counted a bead and recited a chant, a prayer, and his particular word or phrase of the day, a little personal tradition he had.

_Refuge in Gunsaiyam, the great compassionate pou saat._

_May all the members of this group be happy, well, peaceful, and free, O Gunsaiyam._

_I want to be brave._

He only made it through a few repetitions before he had to change the last phrase, though, unsure what he wanted to be brave about, but feeling amorphously uncomfortable with what it might be.


	17. Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They journey through the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went on vacation, and then I wrestled with Alec's emotional arc, and then work ATE ME ALIVE OMG. But the worst of it is over, so fingers crossed for a better writing schedule now!
> 
> Siu gau = little pup
> 
> Content notes: spoilery for events in this chapter, see the end notes.

Alec found himself turning Magdalena’s words over in his mind the way he would a new teaching, the same way that he’d repeat new scriptures or chants to himself until they permeated fully, until they could pour forth from him as naturally as creek water tumbling over stones.

The words combined with the fresh and astringent scent of spruce needles that wafted up with each of his steps, and it all swept through his mind like a cleansing breeze, clearing away the haze of confusion that had been swirling through him these past few weeks.

_Find the stream of dynamic experience._

If he was being honest with himself, he’d been spending most of his energy trying to avoid the stream of dynamic experiences that had been arising on this journey. He’d been longing for the serene predictability of the monastery, where the quality of his consciousness and focus had rarely wavered, where his days had been mapped out down to the hour. Back where he knew exactly how to angle his broom to get the dust out of the back corner of the hallway he swept every week; where his fingers were so familiar with the rhythm of cleaning the tips off of freshly-harvested peas that sometimes the elder monks would tell him there was no need to rush, but his speed came from constant practice, not out of any urgency. Every experience was a known quantity.

He hadn’t been able to see it when he was there, but he’d been attached. Attached to his life looking and being a certain way, attached to _being_ a certain way. Magdalena had tried to tell him over the years, but he hadn’t been able to see the forest for the trees.

He smiled, looking at the stands of conifers that surrounded them, the realization sweetly ironic in this setting. The quiet atmosphere of the morning matched Alec’s contemplative mood.

Magdalena was the only elder who thought Alec wasn’t ready for his final set of vows, but of course Magdalena’s was the opinion that mattered more to Alec than anyone else. They had never guided him astray, and even though they’d probably always disagree over certain interpretations of scripture, Magdalena’s wisdom had been invaluable to him over the years.

Magdalena had been there from the beginning, putting a gentle arm around him when the hot, uncontrollable tears had come those first months as he, Jace, and Isabelle had tried to find their place in their new home. Magdalena had stood steady as Alec had clung to them, something solid he’d been able to hold on when it had like everything else had been taken from him.

 _Your understanding is technically impeccable_ , they had told him the last time he broached the subject of his final vows. _But you cannot hold the enormity of truth inside such rigid, unbending interpretations. This will impede your progress on the pou saat path._ Alec had accepted the words with a bow and hadn’t said anything in response, but his jaw had clenched tightly as he’d walked away, so frustrated he’d barely been able to breathe.

There were many reasons Alec had volunteered for this pilgrimage, and proving to Magdalena that he was ready to be ordained was one of the most important.

If that meant _being_ in this stream of dynamic experience without resistance, if that meant releasing his attachment to his comfortable past and his comfortable idea of who he was, he could do it. He’d made it this far, after all, and he hadn’t once thought about going home, not even when he could barely stand himself.

And as he thought about it, he realized that he had the perfect set of companions who could help him navigate this new territory. Jace loved doing new things; Isabelle had experienced more of the world than the two of them combined; and Magnus, well. Everything about Magnus was outside of the boundaries of Alec’s known world, and apparently that was a good thing.

Alec turned his attention to Magnus’s almost-silent footfalls -- they had insisted on taking up the end of the line when they’d all set out in the morning, to ‘keep an eye’ on Alec, who had fallen to the back hoping for some quiet.

The weight of their presence had been like a quiet echo in Alec’s awareness all morning long. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was a visceral sensation. It was like the air in the space between two hands that were about to touch: unnaturally warm, ripe with the energy of the other person, infused with a question of whether they would come closer and make contact or draw away at the last second.

And this… unusual draw that he felt, toward Magnus… was this part of the dynamic experience that he was supposed to be embracing?

As he allowed the distinctly uncomfortable question to percolate, a memory rose to the surface.

He’d been seventeen and there was a group of visiting taoists. The youngest novice in the group was a year older than Alec, and they’d been mopping the floors in the meditation room and discussing their faiths.

“But what if someone’s inherent nature is chaotic and destructive?” Alec asked, running the mop over a dried patch of mud, spreading the silt through the puddle of water. “How can there be benefit in expressing that nature?”

“Chaos and destruction are as natural as all other aspects of the dao,” Constantine said, not even making a pretense of moving his mop. He leaned against it, hip jutting out, and watched Alec unabashedly. “You can’t really separate creation and destruction, can you? New plants always grow from the ashes of the old forest.”

Alec frowned, his mop slowing. “That doesn’t mean we should seek to become like the forest fire. We choose the principles we practice.”

Constantine let go of the mop, and sauntered over in Alec’s direction. He stood before Alec, a playful tilt to his lips, and a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Ah, but we don’t choose everything, novice prim ’n proper,” Constantine said, leaning forward and brushing something off of Alec’s shoulder, bringing their faces too close for propriety. His voice lowered to a rumble. “Some things are just in our nature.”

And for a split second, Alec _wanted_ \-- to wipe the smirk off Constantine’s lips, to push back and needle Constantine the way that Constantine had been needling him the entire visit, but Jace had walked into the room, breaking the spell of the moment, and Alec never found out what he might have done in that reckless, undefined space.

Alec inhaled sharply when a twig snapped and brought him back to the present, but the memories continued, simply shifting to a different subject. Yesterday morning, when he’d wanted to reach up and smooth his finger over Magnus’s lips. A few days ago, when Magnus had been training him, and they’d started to lean in, and it felt like they were going to -- do something, and like maybe Alec had wanted them to.

Alec felt a heat rising in his cheeks; even allowing himself to explore these strange emotional currents felt illicit somehow. He felt a tangle of interest, simmering excitement, and breath-stealing nervousness, among other things that he didn’t have the words to name. A curling thread of warmth, a quiet pulse of overwhelm that made him want to bury his face in his hands, and an impulsive tendril inside of him that made him want to turn around and speak foolish, unknown words to Magnus.

Even a week ago, he would have cut these threads of thought as soon as they arose.

Today, Alec set novice prim-and-proper to one side, and kept going, even when his cheeks started to burn hotter in the cool morning air.

* * *

It was late morning when Alec reached his limit and shifted his place in their procession, walking towards the front so that he was behind Isabelle and Kalinda. Jace and Mohinder were behind them, while Magnus had stayed at the back.

Alec’s newfound… awareness of Magnus, rather than easing into background noise, was becoming increasingly distracting the more that he explored it. It was as if all his senses were reaching out -- ears straining to hear Magnus’s footfalls, attention caught every time Magnus moved in the periphery of his vision.

Was this how laypeople experienced life? That would certainly explain why they seemed so distracted and scattered all the time; after just a few hours of it, Alec was exhausted. A tight, heavy knot was weighing down his stomach, a confusing mix of sensations: hope laced with fear, curiosity tangled with nervousness.

“Let’s scout,” Kalinda said, breaking the silence that had been draped over them for the last mile. She was looking ahead with slightly narrowed eyes, scanning the thicker stands of trees and the increasingly rocky terrain.

Isabelle turned her head slowly to look at Kalinda, blinking twice. “You and me?”

Kalinda returned Isabelle’s look, the side of her lips curling up subtly. “The leopard won’t take their eyes off this one,” Kalinda said, identifying Alec with a side nod in his direction. “So, yes, that leaves us.”

And although what she was saying was factually accurate and he wasn’t oblivious to Magnus’s protective streak, something in dry amusement of her tone made him look away, swallowing.

“I’d love to, but, um…” Isabelle was uncharacteristically fumbling, biting at her lower lip. “My wolf training ended when I was pretty young, so I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”

Kalinda tilted her head to the side. “How young?”

Isabelle’s gaze dropped. “Five years old.”

Alec only had vague memories of Isabelle’s third egg uncle; he’d come to their house once, to meet the family, but mostly their father had taken Isabelle to his forest. When she returned from her time with him, she would prance around the house in her small wolf form, loving to wait behind corners and surprise tackle Jace when he least expected it, or fake-nip at Alec’s ankles when they’d play in the garden. It had been a long time since he’d seen her like that, carefree and comfortable in her spirit form.

“All right, siu gau,” Kalinda said, giving a single sharp nod. “Stay close and watch me. You’ll start to pick it up.”

Without waiting for Isabelle’s response, a red glow began emanating from underneath her skin and she fell down onto all fours as she took her wolf form. Her form was lithe but there was an obvious strength in her compact frame, and her fur was a deep, dark brown along her body, lightening to a rich russet along her head, legs, and tail. When she looked back at Isabelle, the burnished tawny color of her eyes caught the light.

Isabelle looked back at Alec, eyes high on her forehead, but a pleased excitement buzzing in her eyes. “Wish me luck!” She whispered, her body glowing yellow as she transformed into her wolf form.

Kalinda took off at a quick pace as soon as Isabelle was ready, springing off silently into the forest ahead of them. Isabelle followed a little more slowly, her movements not quite as fluid as Kalinda’s, and then they were both out of sight.

Not long after that, Alec’s plan backfired, because Magnus took up the front in their absence, having Jace fall to the back. He discovered that walking directly behind Magnus was just as tortuous as walking in front of them had been -- his eyes were riveted to the way Magnus’s bare feet padded over the ground, how their pants hugged the curves of their calves, and every time Magnus glanced back at him, his heart jumped into his throat, making it hard to breathe.

Alec sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

“Holy gang!” Maia exclaimed, her grinning face appearing. “Did you all finally join this century and get a lightscroll?”

“Holy gang,” Jace repeated slowly, like he was considering whether the phrase met to his taste or not.

“Our forest guide was kind enough to loan us theirs,” Magnus said, shifting the scroll to aim it to where Mohinder was sitting with Kalinda, eating lunch. Mohinder gave a little wave when they realizing they were being streamed.

Magnus turned it back, putting themself, Jace, Isabelle, and Alec in the viewer. Alec was leaning over Jace’s shoulder and Isabelle was leaning over Mohinder’s so they’d all fit, which frankly felt a little ridiculous to Alec, but the others had insisted.

“Well, I’m glad to see my favorite pilgrimage is still going strong,” Maia said, grin softening. 

They spent some time catching her up on their progress, and she said that although she and Lydia hadn’t seen Ambrose the last time they went up the mountain with a group, in the morning they’d found a basket full of flower teas, dried fruits, and cookies.

“Be careful with eating those, kumquat,” Magnus said. “Since you live in the shadow of the mountain, they might keep their potency.”

Lydia, who had joined Maia a few minutes ago, gave a wicked smile. “Oh, I can verify firsthand just how potent they are.” She reached behind her head, grabbing the end of her braid and holding it up. “I had a twenty minute conversation with my hair before I realized that it wasn’t Maia.”

Maia made a sound in her throat. “And I was off re-decorating our tea room.” She angled her face at the scroll, voice deadpan. “We don’t have a tea room, so I’ll let your imagination fill in the rest of that disaster.”

“Those cookies do look really good,” Jace said, staring at them wistfully through the scroll. Thankfully the technology hadn’t evolved to the point where Jace could reach through, though he seemed to be seriously considering trying anyway.

“It’s like he knew red bean and sesame is my favorite,” Lydia huffed.

“Beware san sin bearing gifts,” Isabelle laughed.

“Speaking of, are you going to bring us back some souvenirs from the Western Reach?” Maia said, tone teasing.

“No problem,” Jace said, puffing out his chest and raising his chin. “How about I rope you a greater yiugwai? You can tame them and ride right up the mountain instead of shelling out currency for air sleeves.”

“Sure,” Maia said. “We’ll keep them in the tea room.”

“I’d be happy with a cute charm,” Lydia said.

Maia and Lydia had to get going after a few minutes, Maia to go meet with some clients and Lydia to meet her friends at a hot spring. Isabelle sighed, saying a hot spring sounded divine, and Lydia promised if they were ever back in the laketop that she’d take Isabelle.

“Stay safe, friends,” Lydia said.

“Don’t be strangers!” Maia ordered amiably as she signed off.

After that, they left Isabelle with the lightscroll so that she could have a private call with Clary, and Alec went off to join Mohinder to add another layer of reinforcement to his prayer beads.

* * *

“So which do you like better?” Jace asked Mohinder. They were walking side by side, and Isabelle was close behind them. Alec was listening to their conversations, taking a break from his thoughts. “The Villages or the Han Nation?”

“The Villages,” Kalinda answered for them.

Mohinder laughed, nodding. “Yes, we’re in agreement on that. I do miss our homeland quite a bit, I must admit. Adjusting to the customs here has been… a process.”

“During one of our pipe rides, I tried to make a joke about the emperor with someone sitting next to me. Practically the entire section gave me a death glare,” Jace said, wincing at the memory.

“In the Prefecture, we make fun of our consul like it’s a national sport,” Isabelle said.

“When the emperors were chosen by bloodline, they had the right to execute anyone who spoke against them,” Mohinder said, voice going quieter. “And some say that they still do, just that they’ve gotten more quiet about it.”

Jace grimaced. “And I just went and stepped right in it.”

Isabelle reached out, squeezing Jace’s shoulder. “At least we --”

In that split second, everything shifted into utter chaos and confusion.

Alec had been mid-stride, eyes focused on Isabelle’s black braid bouncing on her back as she walked, and then he was forcefully knocked off his feet, his entire body lifted off of the ground by something powerful.

It took a few long seconds for him to figure out that the creature was running, _fast_ , holding Alec to its front with an enormous arm around his midsection. He was being roughly jostled with each bone-rattling step, and nothing made sense -- he could barely tell up from down, or where his body was in space.

All he could hear was the roar of his own blood and pulse in his ears, and he blinked wildly, panting.

“Mag --” He croaked, trying to call out for them, but with each progressive step further into the forest he was unraveling more and more. A fine trembling was overtaking him, closing his throat and blurring his already-confused vision. His heart was straining to bursting, lungs burning, all the muscles in his body clenched tight.

The old fear was starting to seep out of his bones. Time and space meant nothing -- it was just as consuming and paralyzing as it had been that night, and he was losing himself, disappearing into the darkness that he’d spent years trying to shove into a forgotten corner of his mind. But some things could never be forgotten, some things never went fully dormant.

He was six years old again, squeezing his eyes closed so hard his forehead throbbed, gasping for air like a fish out of water. The world was made of fire and monsters and he couldn’t move or scream, couldn’t stop the terrifying noises that were battering him, couldn’t do anything except hope they didn’t find him if he made himself small and quiet enough.

But an unexpected sound broke through the haze, one Alec had never heard before -- a ferocious, hissing growl that grew into a rumbling baritone roar, echoing loudly through the forest around them, rushing over them like a wave. Everything fell silent in its wake, as if all the forest creatures could sense the deep rage behind the sound. It had the opposite effect on Alec, calming him on some instinctual level.

“Magnus,” Alec whispered, unsure how he knew. He tried to open his eyes, but the creature changed its grip, squeezing the last little bit air out of his lungs, and the darkness overtook him.

* * *

Alec came halfway to awareness, but his body felt strangely depleted, like even the effort of lifting his eyelids would take too much energy. He was lying on his back, and there was a warm sensation at each of his three daan tin points -- below his belly button, at his heart, and the center of his forehead. It was faint, but seemed to be spread slowly, very slowly replenishing his strength.

“I’ve done everything I can,” Mohinder said, their tone edgy and a touch defensive.

“He was snatched up from right under our noses,” Magnus said, each word sharp and derisive. “‘Everything you can’ is going to get Alec killed.”

“I--” Mohinder stammered, and Alec thought he could hear them swallow. “I can try and --”

“Try?” Magnus roared suddenly, as if some thread of control they’d been hanging onto snapped. “You’re going to _try_? Look at him, you bloodless scientist! Much longer and that goh would have drained him completely.”

“You’re going to need to step down,” came Kalinda’s voice, quieter than everyone else’s, but somehow all the more threatening for it. There was a hint of a growl in her enunciation, like her wolf was bubbling up to the surface. “Right now.”

“It’s all right, it’s a very upsetting situation --” Mohinder started.

“No, it’s not,” Kalinda cut them off. “They don’t get to talk to you that way.”

“Sifu,” came Jace’s voice, a little wary of what he was stepping into. “No disrespect, but Mohinder never promised that the yiugwai wouldn’t be able to spot Alec. Just that it would be harder for them.”

There was the distinct sound of a sharp inhale, and then Magnus said through what sounded like gritted teeth, “Not hard enough.”

“All right, all right,” Isabelle said, the only of them who seemed to be anything resembling calm. “Mohinder’s right, we’re all upset. Let’s just take a little space. Magnus can handle Alec’s infusion, Kalinda and I can guard the perimeter, and Jace and Mohinder can get our supplies back in order.”

“Yes, of course,” Mohinder said immediately, relieved.

“Fine,” Magnus said, the word bitten out, their voice still taut with suppressed anger, but they left it at that.

The group dispersed and it got quiet after that, the sounds of the birds and rustling leaves filtering back in. Alec began to drift in and out again, his focus waxing and waning like the tides. At one point, he thought he felt a soft touch on his cheek, but it was so imperceptible he might have imagined it.

* * *

When Alec awoke next, the first thing he became aware of was sandalwood and rose petals. He inhaled deeply, sighing, and nuzzled in deeper, chasing the scent.

“Young novice?” Magnus said tightly, the tendons of their neck jumping where Alec’s nose was pressing in. “Are you awake?”

Alec opened his eyes, coming fully awake immediately, more than a little mortified. He jerked his head back instantly, and looked down, seeing that Magnus was carrying him, one arm under his knees and the other around his upper back.

“I, uh… yes.” Alec said, cheeks coloring. Sweet Sage, this was embarrassing. This wasn’t even the first time Magnus had been forced to carry him, either. Though you wouldn’t know it from the way they walked, as if Alec weighed nothing at all.

Magnus leaned back so that they could see Alec’s face, their brows drawn together and features pinched. “How are you feeling? The infusion we gave you should be stabilizing, but it takes time to absorb outside energies.”

“I’m fine,” Alec insisted automatically, because even if earlier today he’d been wanting to get closer to Magnus, now that he was here it was overwhelming and uncomfortable. “I can walk now.”

Magnus’s arms tightened their hold on him. “You just woke up, young novice. At least give yourself a few minutes.”

“But you --”

“I could carry you all the way back to your monastery the Prefecture and I still wouldn’t get tired,” Magnus cut him off, raising an eyebrow, as if insulted that Alec would even think of questioning their strength.

And Alec saw the tight set of Magnus’s jaw, and thought about what Magnus had just gone through -- saving him from the powerful goh, watching over him as the healing infusion did its work -- and suddenly understood that his own embarrassment didn’t matter right now. Magnus was worried about him, and if resting a little longer would help put their mind at ease, Alec could do that.

“Fine,” Alec conceded, leaning back. “A few more minutes, then.”

“Good,” Magnus said, squeezing Alec a bit tighter in their arms as if to cement the point. “Take your time.”

Alec glanced around, seeing that the others were a ways behind them. He settled his head onto Magnus’s shoulder, letting his gaze rest on the pulse point on Magnus’s neck; the quiet rise and fall of the vein was oddly hypnotic. The smell of sandalwood and rose was relaxing, and he felt his muscles slowly release the tension that had sprung up when he’d awoken. Magnus was radiating a palpable warmth that soaked into him, creating a comfortable heat where they were touching.

He took stock of how he felt. Despite his earlier insistence, he wasn’t entirely sure he could walk -- his body felt very weak, like he’d just gone through a long illness and still hadn’t fully returned to normal.

Had Magnus said the goh had drained him? Was that why he felt this way?

And before he could stop himself, his mind was going back there, to the goh’s tight grip around him. He’d been so terrified he hadn’t even felt the drain on his life energy. Other details were starting to come back, things he hadn’t noticed in the moment: the sour smell of it, the hard points of its claws digging into his side just beneath his ribs, its hot breath on the back of his neck --

“Alec,” Magnus said, leaning their head back to examine him. “Are you cold? Should I get you a blanket?”

Alec realized he’d started trembling in his upper body and that it was beginning to move down to his legs. He inhaled slowly, and it subsided, but not completely.

“No, I…” Alec was deliberate with his breaths, and formed a small amount of ice in one of his palms to help ground himself further. “I think I need to chant. I can do it with Jace,” he continued, aware of Magnus’s complicated feelings about the pou saat.

Magnus was quiet for a moment, something flickering through their eyes. Then they seemed to reach a decision.

“I’ll chant with you,” they said, pressing their lips together.

Alec blinked, shocked. He’d tried not to chant out loud in the rooms they’d shared, and the idea of Magnus actually chanting _with_ him seemed unfathomable. But there was a strange kind of determination on their face, and if Alec could start going outside of his own comfort zone, he didn’t see any reason that Magnus couldn’t do the same, too.

“That would help,” he said, a small smile all he could manage at the moment. “Thank you, Magnus.”

Alec settled his gaze on Magnus’s neck again, timing his breathing to Magnus’s pulse, and after a few seconds began chanting in a low, rhythmic voice. Magnus soon joined him, their voice rich and smooth, giving the recitation an almost melodic quality. They made their way through the last moments of the waning day, their voices flowing through the words in perfect time, bringing Alec back to the present moment and helping him stay there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes: Alec is grabbed by a poweful goh. He starts to have a flashback, and after the encounter experiences some mild symptoms.
> 
> Constantine is John Constantine from Legends of Tomorrow, because I can't seem to stop pulling chaotic bisexuals from other sources to guest star as daoists in this story. I have no regrets. (:


	18. Incredible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec reaches his breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the end for content notes.
> 
> Tingaai = celestial realm

Alec was sandwiched between Isabelle and Jace, both of whom had insisted they were sleeping near him tonight. Alec had told them it wasn’t necessary, but Isabelle just made a dismissive gesture as she laid out her roll and Jace said, “not a chance!” as he cheerfully took up the other side. Mohinder was a few feet away from the three of them, by themself for the moment because Kalinda and Magnus were walking the perimeter tonight.

As soon as Magnus walked out of earshot, Jace launched into re-telling everything Alec had missed.

“Magnus was _amazing_ ,” Jace said, his eyes practically filled with stars. “The rest of us were still trying to figure out what the deiyuk even happened, but they transformed into a leopard like that,” Jace raised his hands, snapping his fingers loudly, and then slashed his hand across the air, “and they were _off_ , running like a blur.”

“We were so relieved when they brought you back,” Isabelle said, reaching over and squeezing Alec’s shoulder. “I can’t believe a yiugwai attacked like that during full daylight.”

“And that roar!” Jace whisper-exclaimed. “Sage’s eyelashes, it shook _leaves off the trees_ , Alec.”

“I heard that,” Alec said, smiling a little. “It was impressive.”

“Magnus wasn’t joking about the yiugwai in this forest,” Jace said, expression darkening. “We only caught a glimpse, but that one was huge.”

“We’ll just have to stick closer to you,” Isabelle said, squeezing again, almost like she was reassuring herself he was still here. “How are you doing?”

“Better,” he said honestly, though the trembling was still periodically surfacing. His usual methods were helping, but seemed less effective than they’d been in the past, for some reason he couldn’t figure out. It left him feeling raw and open in a way he didn’t like. Then again, a yiugwai had never actually _touched_ him before, much less physically grabbed him. Maybe that was why. “Not a hundred percent, but better.”

“A good night’s sleep will help,” Isabelle said firmly. Jace nodded in response to some psychic communication she sent him, rolling his eyes a little; she’d probably told him to be quiet and let Alec get some rest. “But wake us up if you have a nightmare.”

“Thanks, muimui,” Alec said. Maybe because he’d been practicing with Jace, the term for _little sister_ felt natural rather than awkward.

She was quiet for a beat, and he didn’t need a psychic connection to pick up the surprise she felt at hearing the term.

“Gogo,” she said back quietly, giving his shoulder one last squeeze before letting go.

But Alec wasn’t able to wake them up, because he spent the night riding the edge of his nightmares -- they were unsettling, jumbled, and confusing, trapping him in a restless, tense state between waking and sleeping.

* * *

Alec awoke feeling like he’d barely rested, heart pounding faster than normal. His skin was sticky like he’d been sweating most of the night. Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face and saw that everyone else was still asleep, except Magnus, who was seated barely a stone’s throw away. They were sitting cross-legged and looking at the forest in behind Alec with intense focus.

Alec knew better than to ask if they’d slept at all. He wasn’t sure how, but he intended to get Magnus to truly rest at some point.

“Go back to sleep, young novice,” they said softly, shifting their gaze onto him. “It’s still early.”

The air was still chilled and heavy from the night’s dew, and the predawn light was just beginning to lighten the sky.

“I don’t think I can,” Alec whispered back, trying to sit up without disturbing the others. “I’m just…” He waved his hands around in the air, waggling his fingers, trying to get across how out of sorts and strange he was feeling.

Magnus frowned and then nodded. “That’s understandable, after yesterday. Let’s make some breakfast, then.”

Alec gave a small relieved smile, glad to have something to do to distract himself. They didn’t bring enough supplies to make breakfast every morning, because it could be time-consuming to cook out here with the setup and cleanup involved, but this worked out well since they were up before everyone else anyway.

“Did the goh hurt you?” Alec asked as he started to stir the rice flour, water, and seasonings in the fire-infused steel pot. It wouldn’t have the texture of a real slow-cooked juk, but it was the closest they could manage on the trail.

“No, it was a fast ki--” Magnus stopped themself, pausing in their task of chopping up the dried green onion. “Ah… it was fast.”

Alec could read between the lines, and had seen what Magnus had done with the other yiugwai that had attacked. He appreciated that Magnus was trying to avoid offending his nonviolent sensibilities, but violence towards a yiugwai wasn’t the same as harming a sentient being. It was a point he and Magdalena had often argued, but he knew with a certainty he couldn’t fully explain that his interpretation of the scriptures was the correct one.

“I’m glad that you’re all right,” Alec said, looking up and giving Magnus a small smile. Then he exhaled gustily, biting his lip. “I’m… you keep saving my life, and ‘thank you’ doesn’t feel like enough.”

“I’m sure you would do the same if the tables were turned,” Magnus said, giving a casual shrug as they finished chopping.

“Of course I would,” Alec said before he could even think about it. Then again, it didn’t need contemplation: if Magnus were in danger, he knew without a doubt that he’d do everything in his power to help them.

“There you go,” Magnus said, still with the same casual air, almost as if they were trying to gloss over Alec’s gratitude.

Alec bit the inside of his cheek, not satisfied that he was making his point. His heart was still beating just a hair too fast, and he felt shaky around his joints. His mind was a jumbled mess and it wasn’t looking promising that he’d been improving anytime today. And maybe it was some sleep-deprived foolishness that moved him, or Magdalena’s teaching -- the idea that it was time for him to start moving into new and uncomfortable territories.

Alec leaned the handle of the bamboo spoon to rest against the side of the pot, and stood, walking over to Magnus. Magnus set the knife down and glanced up from what they were doing, brows drawing together in question.

Alec set one knee down on the ground next to Magnus and reached out, hovering his slightly trembling hand over Magnus’s wrist for a few seconds before making contact, to give Magnus time to pull away if they wanted. They didn’t, so Alec wrapped one hand around their wrist, and then brought up his other hand, laying it over Magnus’s hand. Their skin was deliciously warm in the cool morning air.

“Magnus,” Alec said softly, meeting Magnus’s eyes, which had gone very wide. The usual modest slits of their pupils had also widened into large, inky blackness surrounded by a golden rim.

“I’m not great at… uh, this kind of thing, but.” Alec cleared his throat, entirely too aware of the way Magnus’s skin felt against his palms, and how mesmerizing their eyes were this close up. He found himself naturally leaning closer. “What you’ve done for me, for all of us, it’s incredible. _You’re_ incredible. I can’t imagine this pilgrimage without you. Thank you so much, Magnus. For, just… everything.”

Magnus’s lips parted and Alec heard their slight intake of breath, like a delicate gasp. He watched as Magnus blinked quickly, eyes darting away from his, and felt how their hand shifted under his, seeming to clench their knee. They were radiating an odd sort of tension, almost like they wanted to move but were trying to hold themself still.

Finally, they met Alec’s eyes again, a small quirk at the corner of their lips that escaped the tight hold they were keeping on themself. “On the contrary, young novice, you are excellent at ‘this kind of thing.’” They breathed out, the next part so low Alec almost didn’t catch it. “You have no idea of the effect you have.”

In a sudden whirl of motion that broke the moment, Magnus stood, sliding their hand out of Alec’s grasp, and quickly walked over to the pot Alec had been tending. “Wouldn’t want it to burn,” they said with a taut smile that bore more than a passing resemblance to a grimace.

Alec sat there at a loss for a moment, confused at the quick turn of events, but finally settled on taking over chopping the dried onion. He felt a lot of different things, none of them comfortable -- curious whether he’d chosen right by extending himself that way, worried that he’d somehow offended Magnus, and a distinct sense that there was something happening here he was missing, and didn’t have the emotional acuity to pick up.

The last feeling was the most familiar, and where usually he didn’t mind if other people’s emotions went above his head, he was finding more and more that he wanted to be able to decode Magnus’s. He periodically glanced at Magnus as they stirred the quick juk and pointedly didn’t look back at him, deciding that this would be the beginning of a new observation practice.

* * *

Mohinder was the first one to join them for breakfast. Kalinda had awoken first, but she’d immediately transformed and run off into the forest. Jace and Isabelle were snuggling in the space Alec had left behind, Jace curled around Isabelle like a clinging baby panda.

“Please, allow me,” Magnus said, gesturing for them to take a seat on the log, pouring Mohinder a cup of hot tea.

“Thank you,” Mohinder said neutrally, but there was a certain wariness in their face as they sat. They were still bundled up in their thick sleep clothes, looking quite rumbled next to Magnus, who looked as polished as if they’d just stepped out of a fashion lightstream.

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” Magnus said, handing them the cup and inclining their head. “I was angry that the goh caught me by surprise, but that’s no excuse for the way I spoke to you.”

Mohinder relaxed instantly, accepting the cup and smiling gently. “Apology accepted. And I understand. If anything like that happened to Kalinda --” Mohinder shook their head, closing their eyes at the thought. “I don’t know what I would do. And I can certainly see if there might be a way to strengthen the shielding; I did put it together in rather a hurry, so perhaps there’s something I missed.”

“But would the shielding be compromised while you worked on it?” Magnus asked, filling a bowl with the juk and sprinkling some roasted nuts on top.

“Well,” Mohinder said, considering. They ran their hand through their already sleep-disheveled curls, making them bounce. “If I had to create a new infusion from scratch… yes. At least for the duration of the time between removing the original infusion and initiating the new one.”

Magnus handed Mohinder the bowl, and started filling another. “How long?”

Mohinder frowned as they poked their spoon into the juk, stirring it. “A few hours, at minimum.”

Magnus looked off to the side, gazing into the forest beyond. “I’ve sensed some large groups of yiugwai deeper in the forest, with my third eye. If they could pick Alec’s energy up from a distance…”

“Oh, dear,” Mohinder said, eyes following Magnus’s. “That would be a problem.”

“I can handle quite a few average yiugwai,” Magnus said, staring out grimly. “But I’m not interested in going up against dozens of these powerful ones.”

Alec looked as well. The outlines of the trees were still a bit hazy. A frightened shiver went down his spine when he imagined an entire _horde_ of that same creature that had grabbed him. One had been terrifying enough.

“You can use your third eye to sense their energies?” Mohinder asked Magnus, tilting their head. “I’ve never heard of ether granting such a capability.”

“That particular ability isn’t linked to my element,” Magnus said, laughing a little, a strange smile twisting their lips. They handed the second bowl they filled to Alec, which he accepted with a nod. “It was something I acquired during my time in the realm of the deities.”

Mohinder’s jaw actually dropped, and Alec wasn’t far behind them. “You’ve been to tingaai?”

Magnus had spent time among the deities in the celestial realm? Alec wasn’t sure why the idea shocked him so deeply -- they already knew Magnus had some sort of connection to Gunyam and the Sage. But to realize that Magnus had been among all of the celestial beings in their home felt much larger in scale, like discovering that a stone you discovered by chance at the riverside was actually imperial jade.

“I -- I don’t even know where to _start_ \-- I can’t even _imagine_ the wonders that you witnessed --” Mohinder said, speaking so fast they were stumbling over their words.

Magnus held up a hand, forestalling them. “A story for another day. I do indeed have the ability to sense the energies of the yiugwai, but I’m only able to do it when I’m focusing. I can’t sustain it all day long.”

Mohinder subsided, faintly disappointed. “Ah, right. So it wouldn’t be feasible for you to monitor constantly.”

“Believe me,” Magnus sighed. “I wish I could. I’ve been checking periodically, but obviously the goh got through when I wasn’t looking.”

Mohinder tilted their head, gaze unfocusing. “Maybe _you_ don’t have to be the one checking…”

Magnus waited a moment, and then glanced at Alec. Alec shrugged, unsure when Mohinder planned on finishing their sentence, if at all.

Out of nowhere, Mohinder snapped their fingers, re-focusing their eyes on Magnus. “I _might_ be able to create a detector. Most likely very short range, but I could design it to detect continuously. Would you be able to describe exactly how your ability works?”

“Anything that will help,” Magnus said.

“Good, a demonstration would be even better,” Mohinder said, setting their half-eaten juk to the side and standing. They walked to their bag, mumbling as they opened it and began looking through their things. “I’ll just have to check if I have enough raw earth, although maybe it would be best to mix it with air and wood, as well, just in case they’re airborne or climbing in trees…”

While Magnus was distracted attempting to decipher Mohinder’s half-coherent mumbling, Alec reached over and grabbed a bowl, scooping out a portion for Magnus. He set it next to Magnus before getting up to wake Jace and Isabelle; Kalinda had just returned, and it would be time for them to get back on the road soon.

* * *

Alec was not all right.

His day had, to put it mildly, not gone according to his plan. The emotions bubbling inside of him, instead of calming down over the course of the day, had become progressively more acrid and bitter. His control had started slipping last night, when he was plunged into nightmares, and seemed to slip further away from his grasp with each step forward. Instead of regaining his center as they traveled, he’d only unraveled further, agitation building like a storm.

The added stress of the way they had all been _watching_ him, in particular Magnus, hadn’t helped: like they were afraid if they took their eyes off for a second him he’d disappear. The weight of their scrutiny and worry had been smothering.

There was no reason for him to be like this -- a raw, pulsating nerve like he was a child again. The day had been completely uneventful, quiet and calm. But nothing -- walking meditation, silent chanting, praying, ice in his palms, talking to Jace and Isabelle -- none of it had helped. None of his usual methods for dissipating the thick, chaotic miasma inside of him made the smallest dent.

And perhaps it wasn’t the best frame of mind for him to be in when they started the training session for the evening, but he needed this, for some reason he couldn’t quite explain, even to himself. The embryonic breathing left him even more charged than usual, a boiling heat bubbling just under his skin, giving him a sense of brash confidence he wasn’t used to.

So he was surprised that when they began to run the partner drill, he found himself flinching back horribly before Magnus had done anything more than raise their arms into the attack position.

Magnus immediately backed up two steps, raising both palms in front of themself.

“Alec,” they said, frowning. “I think it would be best if you --”

“No,” Alec cut them off before they could suggest that he needed to go rest, already shaking his head. “Sorry, that was -- I’m just a little on edge, that’s all. I’m good.”

Magnus didn’t stop frowning, but nodded.

Alec assumed his blocking position, taking in a slow breath through his nose and setting his gaze firmly on Magnus. He gave Magnus a small nod, which they returned, and then much more slowly brought themself into the attacking position. Alec wanted to tell them it wasn’t necessary, that Magnus didn’t have to treat him like he’d break, but he focused his energy on keeping his eyes open instead. He was just getting the hang of keeping them open and didn’t want to lose his progress.

But Magnus only made it two steps before Alec’s body was curling away again, his face turning away so abruptly that a joint in his neck popped.

“I don’t know what’s _wrong_ with me,” Alec said, running a rough hand over his face. “Just -- one more time. I’ll do better.”

But Magnus had already dropped their attacking stance, and they were eyeing Alec warily. The others were paired up and working on their own exercises in the clearing where they’d set up camp for the night -- Jace and Isabelle were practicing their set of four attacks and blocks, and Kalinda and Mohinder were working a set of two.

Magnus took a step closer, speaking in a low voice. “Alec, it’s fine. Maybe you should rest. We can try this again tomorrow.”

Alec inhaled through his nose again, one of his fists clenching. Logically, he knew that Magnus was trying to be kind, but for some reason the concern on their face felt like sandpaper rubbing against a raw wound -- torturous, almost enraging.

“No,” Alec said, grinding his teeth. “I want to. I can do it, Magnus.”

He’d been failing the entire day -- to get himself under control, to figure out why he was so off-center.

He also wasn’t any closer to understanding the Sage’s guidance, either; he was diligently practicing Magnus’s method of observing emotional currents, but so far all he’d learned was that there were a _lot_ of them, and they were very confusing. He didn’t have any idea which one of lunwui’s pleasures he was clinging to.

And he knew for a fact that he wasn’t succeeding at following Magdalena’s guidance. It was one thing to stretch himself and allow in new experiences; it was another to spend the day snapping at his companions when they were trying to be kind and helpful, to simmer in some unidentifiable frustration that was bringing him perilously close to wrong conduct.

There was no way he was going to fail at this, too.

Magnus’s lips thinned, but finally they sighed at whatever they saw him his expression. “Very well.”

Alec took up the blocking position, setting his feet solidly into the ground and preparing his body. He kept his eyes on Magnus, _willing_ his body and mind to cooperate this time.

 _Stand firm,_ he told himself, as Magnus got into their position and prepared to attack. _Don’t close your eyes._

But then Magnus was moving, their body rushing towards Alec, and the worsening tightness in his gut turned into a fear that seared through all his limbs. He was scrambling backwards before Magnus even made contact, every part of him flinching away. He ended up kneeling and crouched down on the ground in a nearly-fetal position. The fine tremors that he’d been trying to ignore exploded through him, full-fledged trembling spreading like ice water through him, shaking his joints and making his teeth chatter.

“What’s wrong with me?” He tried to say, but it came out as an unintelligible, broken whisper, his face buried in his arms, which he was still holding up protectively in front of his face.

He heard the others speaking but wasn’t able to make sense of it until Magnus came closer to him, walking with loud, shuffling steps and speaking as they made their way toward him. “Alec, would it be all right for me to put a hand on your back?”

Alec only semi-understood what Magnus was asking him, and some sort of sound escaped him. Magnus must have taken it to mean something, because there was a very soft touch on Alec’s back that slowly became firmer as he leaned back into it.

He was having a hard time breathing, which was heightening his agitation, because he worked _so hard_ at always being in control of his breathing. He was gasping, desperately, heart hammering against his chest and lungs screaming for more oxygen.

“You’re safe, Alec,” Magnus was murmuring, their hand beginning to make slow circles on Alec’s back. “I’m right here. You’re safe, nothing’s going to happen to you.”

Alec reached out, unseeing, and grabbed a fist full of Magnus’s shirt, holding onto it like an anchor. Moving on pure instinct, he found himself pulling Magnus in and collapsing towards them at the same time, a kind of slow-motion collision that brought his face against Magnus’s shoulder, his body shuddering in Magnus’s loose embrace.

Magnus’s other hand came up to the small of Alec’s back, making soothing, firm motions.

“That’s good, Alec,” Magnus said quietly in his ear. “You’re doing so well.”

Something inside of Alec snapped at the words, at how unexpected they were, how deeply they pierced him, hot tears streaming down his face and a shattered, aching sound tearing out of his throat. He was practically ripping at Magnus’s shirt, sobbing into their shoulder, and Magnus just stayed there, holding him, completely steady and solid and murmuring a stream of soft, kind words.

But the intensity wasn’t easing up -- the pain was tearing him in two, stripping away each piece of his identity layer by layer, pulling him deeper into a darkness that felt neverending, a grief that was so powerful and terrifying that he couldn’t imagine surviving it, couldn’t _take_ it, it was _too much_ , he wasn’t going to make it, he was fighting for air, his heart was going to explode, he _couldn’t_ \--

And between one shuddering breath and the next, he dissolved into a realm of light and weightlessness, and opened his eyes to see the Sage before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes: Alec becomes increasingly agitated over the course of the day, and has a full blown anxiety attack in the evening. It begins at: "But then Magnus was moving, their body rushing towards Alec."


	19. Precious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sage visits Alec.

This wasn’t a dream.

That was the first thing Alec realized, though how he was so certain he didn’t know. He had a grounded sense of self-awareness that wasn’t present in the highly malleable and fantastical dream state. He knew that mere seconds ago, he’d been clutching at Magnus -- his hands were still gripping the air, like they were searching for Magnus.

The Sage herself appeared the way she had in his dreams, but she was somehow more… immense. She seemed to extend far beyond the small space that her body occupied, filling the space with her subtle energy. This indefinable space was saturated with her, giving the sense of deep, invisible tides: as if underneath the surface, she was moving in esoteric swirls and eddies, driven by an unknown organic rhythm.

She was sitting in lotus position on the white, unmarked ground; the sunlight suffusing the space was warm on her bronze-brown skin. She had wide set, dark eyes that sloped gently upwards along the smooth lids; her lips were thick, the top pearl in the sea nestling comfortably into the bottom; her nose was curved calligraphy that rested just above her lips, tapering off into flatness in the space between her eyes. Her black hair was gathered into a flawless topknot, resting at the crown of her head like a crown.

Before Alec could figure out what to do with himself -- he spent a split second debating whether he should prostrate here or move closer to her -- but then she nodded in his direction, and it rippled towards him. Her expression didn’t shift, and she made no noise, but Alec _felt_ the invitation to sit in front of her, rolling through his body with subtle tingles, and it was like the air itself began to nudge him towards her.

“Beautiful novice,” she said in greeting when he was across from her, a bare hint of a smile tugging at one side of her mouth.

Even with such a minute gesture, the warmth of her regard pulsated like a burst of concentrated sunlight and he sucked a breath in, at once awed and humbled. If this was only a sliver of her presence, he could barely conceive of what experiencing her totality would be like.

“O Wise One,” he replied, inclining his head as far as possible in a seated position. He felt his cheeks burning -- because she’d called him “beautiful,” which seemed wrong to him in some unspeakable but fundamental way; because this felt like the most important moment of his life and while the shift in environment had reduced his agitation, he was nowhere near a state worthy of her. He wasn’t calm, he wasn’t prepared, and they weren’t even close to completing the pilgrimage in her name. His next words, though formal, were heartfelt. “This is far too great an honor for such a poor novice.”

When he straightened and looked back up, she was examining him, her earthen eyes holding him in her gaze. The hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth deepened, and she shook her head slightly, sending ripples outward. His words were brushed away, reduced to dust like they had never existed. Yet he knew that it wasn’t a rejection or an act of cruelty: there was something about his sentiment that couldn’t survive here, in the vicinity of her light.

“You have come far,” she said, and as he watched her he saw that grass was beginning to grow beneath her. It was spreading outwards slowly, tiny tendrils of green curling into the white and overtaking it.

“Today, diligent novice, you have reached,” she continued, fluidly raising her left hand and partially extending her index finger. “A turning point.”

Small flowers began spring up from the grass, unfurling blue stars with vivid yellow centers.

“I --” Alec’s breath stuttered, the fear rising fast and furious in his throat. He was keenly aware of the state he’d been in right before he was pulled here -- so out of control, so pathetic -- and he felt a horrific certainty that he was going to be told to go home, that he’d already failed before he’d even really begun.

And his mind knew that there were correct responses to give her. That even if she was sending him home an abject failure, that she was still due the proper respect. There were correct ways to behave in front of the deity that he’d pledged his soul to, and he _knew_ them, he was supposed to be better than this --

But the words were choked in his throat, useless, and even _here_ , even in the presence of the most divine, he couldn’t do it right.

And she was watching him, not filling his awful silence, just holding him in her endless eyes and seeing him like this, seeing every jagged facet, every broken shard, every raw exposed inch of him.

It began in his gut, a tight, hot, convulsive coil -- a terrible heat that pulled every muscle tight, that made him contract and pull in, try to shrink, to become smaller and smaller until maybe he could become invisible. His skin was burning, saliva bitter, pulse pounding in his ears and temples and she still _saw_ him, refusing to turn away.

The shame seared him, saturated him until there was room for nothing else, until it stretched his tolerance beyond any limit he had ever reached, and he broke the spell, gasping, tearing his eyes away from her and looking down into his lap, chest heaving, the tears finally spilling over into his lap.

And then --

A shaft of cool, sweet water broke through the smoky red haze.

Alec closed his eyes, sighing, and realized that she had three of her fingertips under his chin. Her touch was a translucent blue rivulets rushing through his veins, soothing the fire, letting him breathe again. With silent tenderness, she drew his face back up, and when he opened his eyes again, he was bathed in pure light.

She was radiance embodied, a multi-colored corona extending out from her brilliant, pulsing third eye. When he met her eyes, full of unwavering love, he knew even when he’d torn his gaze away from her, that she hadn’t turned from him, that she’d continued to hold him in the amaranthine constellations of her eyes --

And on a level deeper than words or language or even understanding, he _knew_.

Those same timeless eyes had watched over him his entire life, and never once turned away from him.

The knowledge felt so unexpected, so shocking and astonishingly _true_ that it settled deep inside of him, knitting together shattered fragments and opening up new pathways at the same time.

And under the quiet resolution in her gaze, the absolutely constancy of her acceptance, Alec breathed. He breathed until the shame bled out of him, trickle by trickle, and the cooling waves lapped over him, letting his heart beat freely, without a tremor.

He sat before her, as tender and helpless as a newborn, a whispering breeze caressing his skin to life again as the Sage’s luminescence gradually dissipated, the light fading like wisps of incense curling into nothingness. Words were beyond him, but as he breathed in, there was no urgency, no necessity to be anything more than he was in that very second; he gazed at the grasses and flowers which had grown into an entire field around them. The aroma of the cerulean flowers was otherworldly, like nothing he’d ever breathed: it smelled the way that he imagined laughter would taste, light and uplifting and delicately sweet.

The Sage’s hands had returned to rest in her lap, settled into the tranquility seal, and he mirrored her posture, accepting her soft gaze. He marveled at how empty he felt without the weight of the familiar fear.

“What is the nature of the fear, brave novice?” She asked him, her quiet voice an endless, rolling echo, percolating through him.

Alec tried to wet the inside of his rusty, parched mouth. In the infinite plains of her eyes, there was no time or space to consider the correctness of his reply.

“That I’m supposed to be different by now,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Better.”

He struggled, because as the constellations spun in her eyes, images of him surfaced: as a young boy, curling up in the corner, sobbing. A little older, shivering in Magdalena’s lap.

“I’m supposed to have…” The images kept coming, one after another: his face buried in Jace’s shoulder when they were twelve. Isabelle pushing back his sweaty hair from his swollen red eyes. And worst of all, as an adult, shuddering in Magnus’s arms. “ _Finished_ with all this. Released these emotional attachments.”

The Sage hummed, and the images dissolved into the slowly spinning stars.

“I wonder, kind novice,” she said, and the constellations shifted the direction of their orbits, giving him a sensation of weightlessness. The celestial starscape spread, until the grass and the flowers were gone, until both their bodies themselves were gone, and all he knew was her voice, soaking into every cell of his being. “How you can release what you deny belongs to you?”

In the vast darkness, a glinting glimmer of starlight came towards him, and he gasped when it touched his third eye, the fragment bursting into a flare of blinding brilliance.

“Do not deny who you are, precious novice,” the Sage said, “in service of who you struggle to become.”

And then the darkness took him, and he knew no more.

* * *

_Cold._

As he struggled back into consciousness, it was the first thing he felt, and so powerful that he could barely perceive anything beyond it. He felt it in his bones, his lungs, every inch of his skin penetrated by the deep, unforgiving chill.

He opened his eyes, and discovered that there was barely room for his eyelashes to scrape by, and the strange, blurry sight that greeted him made no sense. It was bright, but distorted, and when he struggled to move, _nothing_ happened. He couldn’t shift his body in the slightest, could barely even feel his body.

And then he knew, and his lungs tried to expand, all his muscles tensed --

He was encased in ice from head to toe, and he couldn’t _breathe_ and he couldn’t _move_ and --

He heard muffled sounds around him, saw blurry shapes moving, and felt some kind of impact vibrating through the ice. It jarred him, helped break the rhythm of the mounting panic he felt as each second passed, and he realized the others must be trying to get him out.

 _Hurry_ , he prayed, but in contrast to the numbing cold, his lungs were on fire, begging for a scrap of oxygen, and he tried to gasp against the ice, but the tiny space between his lips and the slick surface only gave him the slightest relief.

The seconds ticked by, and he saw the others moving, felt the blows they were raining down on the ice, but they didn’t seem to be getting any closer to him.

His heartbeat was thunderous and agonizing, each pulse calling him closer to the easy slip of darkness, and black pinpricks began to swarm at the periphery of his vision.

With what felt like one of the last contractions of his failing heart, there was an answering pulse in his third eye. A warm throb that trickled like bright threads of light through him, tracing the pathways through his nerves, settling behind his eyes.

He remembered the first dream the Sage had sent him: eight blooming lotuses, perfectly preserved in ice. He was meant to melt the ice to collect the flowers, but even in the dream realm, he hadn’t been able to properly control his power.

He let his eyelids slide closed, and released the oxygen he’d been desperately trying to grip in his lungs.

Alec, poised on the brink of death, let go of everything.

He gave himself over to the tears, the grief that had walked beside him every day, and greeted it. He had no idea if he was doing anything right, if he would live beyond the next few seconds, but somehow in this deadly liminal space there was nothing more to lose, and he could just let go and stop trying to contain it all.

And he felt a rare amazement at himself, that he’d even made it this far -- it was so much larger than any one person could ever carry. Why had he even tried?

The grief was thick and scalding as it moved through him, salt and acidity being scraped along an open wound, and he surrendered to it, letting consume him the way he'd always known that it would, dragging him down, down, down.

But then --

The cold eased, and there was light, and sound, _air_ , and strangest of all, laughter. It took him a long moment to realize it was his own.

“Alec!” Jace was screaming, and Jace’s strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him gently upright. Alec blinked at him, water dripping from his face. “Are you okay?”

Jace kept one hand gripped on his shoulder while his other was patting Alec -- on his face, his chest, his arm -- like Jace needed to catalogue every part of him to make sure he was whole.

“Gogo,” Isabelle said, and her voice was full of tears. Alec slowly rotated his head to where she was sitting at his side; she reached out and took one of his frozen hands in hers. “Can you talk to us? Can you tell us what happened?”

“I’m…” A startled laugh emerged from Alec’s mouth again, and he felt his face break out into an enormous smile. “Alive,” he breathed.

“Bless the Sage,” Isabelle said shakily, rubbing his hand between hers, and the prickles of blood rushing back into his limbs began. “We had no idea what to do.”

“Where’s…” Alec started, but then he saw them.

Magnus was pacing, a few feet away. Alec’s eyes widened as he took Magnus in: their body seemed to be practically vibrating, and they were showing many more of their leopard characteristics than Alec had ever seen. All of their visible skin was a deep golden color peppered with dark spots, and their hands were lightly furred and each finger was tipped with a large, curling talon. All of their muscles was straining at their clothing, and two fangs were emerging from their top lip.

They were looking at Alec, their eyes glowing intensely, every one of their lines taut and tense.

“Take care of him,” Magnus said to Isabelle and Jace in a deep voice that was half-growl, and before Alec could get a word out, they’d crouched and taken off into the forest at a run.

“Sifu used all their strength trying to crack that ice, but it wouldn’t budge,” Jace explained, as the three of them stared off in the direction that Magnus had run. “They were… pretty terrifying.”

“They just need some time,” Isabelle said.

Alec nodded. He realized Magnus was carrying a huge weight, too -- trying to keep Alec alive was turning out to be no small job. Alec stayed relatively quiet as they tended to him, giving him warm food and getting him bundled up in dry clothes and blankets, unable to shake the sense that he wanted to wait for Magnus’s return to share the full story of what he’d experienced.

* * *

He’d almost given up on seeing Magnus again that night; the others were all sound asleep, and Kalinda was out walking the perimeter. Alec hadn’t been able to settle and was now seated against a tree, looking up at the sky through the breaks in the canopy, still trying to absorb everything that had happened, how inside-out he was feeling.

But there was a prickle on the back of his neck that gave him the sense he was being watched from a distance, like a flash of movement at the edge of his vision. Pushing up from the ground, he stood and circled slowly, hesitant to break the quiet spell of the night with loud sounds.

There, off to his left -- the faint glow of eyes. Though they were barely visible, Alec recognized them. Had they been watching him all night?

“Magnus?” He whispered, taking a step in their direction.

The glow disappeared briefly, Magnus’s eyelids sliding down, and Alec strained to distinguish their outline in the penetrating darkness, squinting out into the forest. He was focusing so intently that he startled when Magnus was suddenly in front of him, coming out from behind a stand of trees about ten paces from Alec. They were back in their human form, only their normal leopard characteristics visible, and leaned against the nearest tree, crossing their arms over their chest and crossing their legs at the ankles, just a hint of tension underlying their elegant, fluid movements.

“Magnus,” Alec said in quiet relief, taking a step forward.

While their body was preternaturally still, Magnus’s tail was whipping back and forth through the air, appearing and disappearing behind the tree they were leaning against.

“What if I went by myself?” Magnus said with an odd intensity, finally bringing their eyes to meet Alec’s.

Alec had been about to take a fourth step forward, but was arrested by what he saw in Magnus’s eyes: a simmering anger coupled with a palpable exhaustion, rimmed by the dark circles staining Magnus’s lower eyelids.

“By yourself?” Alec asked, confused.

“What if I,” Magnus said slowly and deliberately, each word seeming to cost them more the longer that they spoke, “went and located these ridiculous scrolls by myself?”

“I d-don’t…” Alec swallowed, starting to feel apprehensive by what seemed to be growing rage in Magnus’s features. “I don’t understand.”

Magnus pushed off the tree in a quick, feline motion, stalking towards Alec.

“If I complete this _sacred_ pilgrimage by myself,” Magnus hissed, circling Alec as they spoke, their movements predatory and raising the small hairs on the back of Alec’s neck. “Will you finally see sense and _go home_ , little novice?”

Now, more than ever, Alec knew his answer. But Magnus seemed like they were riding a razor’s edge and Alec didn’t know how he could answer without tipping them over it.

Magnus came to stop in front of him, standing far too close, leaning their face in until the two of them were mingling air.

“Well?” Magnus growled, and --

It wasn’t their voice, or their questions. It wasn’t even how physically intimidating they were, although Alec’s heartbeat was hammering in his chest and his instincts were telling him to run.

It was the way they were looking at him: where usually he found kindness and understanding, he saw a bitter, burning rage that made him doubt every instinct that had been telling him to trust Magnus, made him see the foolishness of his tangled desires and half-formed hopes.

“I’m sorry, Magnus,” he whispered, voice trembling, though he wasn’t sure either of them knew what he was apologizing for. He felt a few hot, silent tears escape the corners of his eyes, but he was too hollow right now to feel any shame.

In his hazy vision, he saw the transformation -- like a string had been cut, and Magnus’s entire body exhaled, slumping down. The anger drained out of their eyes in a flash, and hard line of their lips softened into a repentant frown.

“No,” they said, voice softer, more human. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, Alec… behaving like this. I’m…”

They took a staggering step back, reaching up and running a hand over their mouth and closing their eyes. Alec took a few long, slow breaths, letting his racing pulse slow down and wiping off his cheeks, trying to compose himself again.

“I can’t, Magnus,” Alec finally answered, taking a step forward and reaching out for Magnus’s elbow without thinking about it. Magnus startled at the contact, looking up at Alec with wide eyes like the last thing they expected was for him to come closer.

“I… _have_ to do this,” Alec tried to explain -- knowing it couldn’t really be explained in words, this sense of inexorable purpose that was driving him -- but hoping Magnus’s uncanny ability to read him would be enough. “This is my path. Is there… is there any way you can understand?”

Magnus’s mouth twisted into an ugly configuration. “I can, unfortunately.”

After a moment, they shifted their arm, gripping Alec’s elbow in return, their thumb circling the inner crease of Alec’s arm. They came forward a step, tilting their head up just a fraction, eyes large and liquid, the golden radiance bright in the pervasive dark.

Almost dream-like, they raised one of their hands, hovering their fingertips in the air a hairsbreadth from Alec’s cheek, so close that he felt the warmth radiating off their skin, and Alec’s breath caught in his throat.

“But I came so close to losing you, sapphire,” they said, voice raw with a pain that pierced Alec like a blow to the chest, to realize that he’d done this to Magnus. “I -- I can’t _lose_ \--”

And as he heard the break in Magnus's voice, saw how close they were to snapping -- Alec moved forward without thought, sliding closer to Magnus and pulling them into a tight, crushing hug. He gripped Magnus with all his strength, unafraid since it would be impossible for him to cause any damage.

When Magnus’s arms wrapped around him, something inside of him finally, finally uncoiled, and he sighed into Magnus’s hold.

“I came back, Magnus,” he whispered into Magnus’s shoulder, inhaling them and pressing into them all at once. “I melted my ice.”

Standing there, with Magnus’s broad, powerful hands stroking gently over his back, Alec felt the pieces of him which had been scattered and broken over the last few days start to settle back into place. He reached up, cradling the back of Magnus’s head, and felt them soften as well, settling their cheek onto Alec’s shoulder with a whisper of a sigh. Some part of him knew that it wasn’t enough, that Magnus still deserved more, but he held onto Magnus’s warmth and solidity with everything he had, because there was no way he could let Magnus bear any of their pain alone.


End file.
